


Forever Side by Side

by PinkGerberDaisies



Series: Home Sweet Home [3]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Slice of Life, Smut, VirtueMoir Children, growing back together, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-08-24 00:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 95,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16629626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: After ten years apart, Scott and Tessa learn how to be together again.An extended epilogue to Wide Eyed Dreamers & Coming Home to You.





	1. September 2018

**Author's Note:**

> I promised you guys a happy, fluffy, (sometimes smutty), epilogue. I hope you enjoy what I have planned <3
> 
> The title comes from "You And I" by Jon McLaughlin.

** can you see how far we’ve come? (it’s such a miracle) **

****

**_September 4, 2018_ **

**_London, Ontario_ **

****

“Alright, are your eyes closed?” Scott asks from somewhere at her side, his voice a playful warning, and Tessa scrunches up her nose as she shuts her eyes even tighter – sticking her tongue out at him and laughing when he pinches it in retaliation. “No peeking, kiddo.”

“I’m not! If I close them any tighter I’ll give myself a migraine.”

“Good. Because it’s just around the corner.”

Tessa can feel the truck losing speed as they take a turn and she sits up a little straighter in anticipation. Scott had promised to show her his skate shop today and give her the grand tour, and she’s hardly been able to contain her excitement on the short drive down from Ilderton.

"Are we there yet?” She whines as the truck comes to a stop, and she can hear Scott shifting the gears into park. The old clutch sticks for a second like it always did when they were kids, and Tessa makes a mental note to suggest that after fifteen years, it might be time for him to buy a new car. This one still has a freaking tape deck, for Pete's sake. 

“Yeah, but hang on.”

The driver side door slams shut and Tessa has to cover her eyes with both hands to resist the urge to open them and spoil the surprise. It only takes a second and then her door is opening and Scott’s hands are there – undoing the seatbelt buckle and prying her hands off of her face so that he can help her climb out.

“Just a few more seconds. I want it to be just right.”

He puts his hands on both of her shoulders and moves her around, re-positioning her until she assumes that she must be standing exactly in front of the store, and then with a sharp inhale he whispers, “Okay, open.”

The bright afternoon sun is nearly blinding and it takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, but when they do the first thing she sees is _Moir’s Skate Shop_ written above the door in black and a big stylish white M on the glass.

It’s a simple cinderblock building, nothing unique in its appearance to set it apart from all the other buildings connected to it in a row, but it’s _Scott’s_ building and that makes it special.

“Wow, Scott. It’s real. You really did it,” Tessa says quietly, nearly stunned to silence at the physical manifestation of his dream.

“Yep.”

She can feel him shrug behind her, as if it’s not a big deal, but the thickness of his voice gives away his true emotions and Tessa spins around to pull him close in a tight embrace.

“I’m so proud of you.”

“You haven’t seen the inside yet,” Scott chuckles in that self-deprecating way he does sometimes, returning her hug with a quick squeeze of his own, “It might disappoint you.”

“Impossible,” Leaning up on her tiptoes, Tessa plants a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw before reaching for his hand and tugging him towards the door, “I want the grand tour. Leave nothing out!”

A bell jingling overhead announces their presence to the three people inside - a woman with her pre-teen son and an older man standing behind the counter, who Tessa assumes must be Scott’s business partner, his uncle Paul. The man looks away from the customers he’s helping for just a second to acknowledge Scott before refocusing on the conversation at hand.

“So, uh, this is mostly it,” Scott gestures to the room around them, speaking quietly so as not to disturb the sale, and Tessa takes it all in slowly. There are different styles of boots displayed on the shelves and pictures on the wall of Scott and his brothers as kids skating at the rink, as well as a few team photos of Scott and a bunch of kids that Tessa assumes are the children that he coaches. The store is basic, but welcoming, and the fresh scent of leather permeates everything in a pleasant way that makes it feel homey and cheerful.

"I love it,” Tessa turns to him with a wide smile, linking her hand with his and leaning into his arm, “It’s very you.”

"You think?" His eyes search her face, eager for reassurance and approval, and Tessa leans up to kiss him again. 

"Yes. It's perfect and I am so,  _so_ proud of you." 

The woman and her son leave with a new pair of completed skates, emptying out the shop, and the old man finally walks over to them.

“Scott, I didn’t know you would be coming in today.”

“Just stopping by. Uncle Paul, I don’t know if you remember, but this is my wife, Tessa.”

He’s practically puffing up like a peacock as he introduces her, and Tessa can’t help but giggle. She knows exactly how he’s feeling – it’s a special kind of treat to hear him calling her that again. To be his _wife_ again. She feels seventeen and drunk with love and giddy at the prospect of forever.

“Yes, we met at your wedding a long time ago. It’s nice to see you again, Tessa.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Uncle Paul.” She accepts his firm handshake with a friendly smile and a sturdy squeeze of her own (trying to make a good second impression), but her grip falters at the hard look in his eyes.

“Are you in town for another short visit?” Paul glances towards Scott and then down to where the wedding band on Scott's left hand catches the light (he'd put it on right after she'd put hers back on the morning of his birthday), before looking back at her face, and Tessa can read the warning written across his own, “You were here a couple of months ago as I recall, although I believe under different circumstances. Did quite a number on Scott… _again_.” 

“Paul.” Scott cuts in with a sharp voice, jaw ticking as he shakes his head almost imperceptibly at his uncle, and Tessa frowns.

_I probably burned every bridge I had here, even some I didn’t realize_.

“It’s okay, Scott,” Tessa reaches up to grab his elbow with her free hand, holding on tightly to his arm and looking Paul square in the eyes, “Those were different circumstances, but I’m here to stay this time.”

Paul grumbles something like _hmph we’ll see_ and walks back over to the counter, pulling out a ring of keys and gesturing towards the clock on the wall, “I was just about to close up.”

“Don’t worry about that. You head out. I’ll take care of it tonight.”

A silent conversation seems to pass between Scott and Uncle Paul that Tessa can’t grasp before the older man nods and tosses him the keys in a move that seems well-practiced, and Scott catches them easily without even looking. 

“Have a good night then.” Paul tugs on a beat up old Blue Jays hat, pulling it low over his head, and heads out of the store.

Tessa lets out a long sigh as soon as the door closes behind him, “I don’t think he likes me.”

“That’s not true. Uncle Paul just,” Scott hesitates, looking around as if he’ll find the right words written on one of the walls, “He can be overly cautious, and he has a tendency to let his mouth run away from him.”

“Yeah, I definitely got the vibe that he thinks he has to protect you.”

“From you?” Scott teases, pinching her nose affectionately and shaking her head back and forth, “It isn’t 2004 anymore, kiddo. I could definitely take you in a fight now.”

She really shouldn’t let him distract her – should force him to talk about why Uncle Paul feels the need to protect his nephew from the return of his wife. She’s not naïve enough to think that there aren’t some unresolved feelings of resentment and hurt between them that will have to be resolved, but they’ve had such a pleasant three days together in their happy bubble that she really doesn’t want to spoil it by bringing up such a serious topic.

"Ha! I could still easily outrun you, Moir.” She pokes him in the sternum and laughs when he rubs at the spot and pouts.

“Ouch. That hurt, Virtch.”

“Maybe I’ll kiss it better after you finish giving me the tour,” She shoots back with a wink, heading towards the door behind the desk that she assumes leads to the part of the building where they make the skates.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Scott promises, following her through the door and into a medium sized workroom full of equipment and various pieces of skating boot materials and paraphernalia.

The smell of leather and steel is even stronger in here, and as Tessa picks up a half-finished skate she can’t help but admire the clear care and quality that goes into each boot.

“This is so cool. I’ve never seen unfinished skates before. Will you teach me how you do it?” She turns to find Scott watching her and blushes a little bit under his steady gaze. His eyes, soft like honey, harden into something dark and sinful.

“Do I get a kiss when I’m done?” His arms land on either side of the counter behind her, effectively caging her in, and he runs his nose along the side of her face as he waits for an answer.

Tessa can feel her heartbeat picking up speed as goosbumps break out across her skin and part of her wants to abandon the tour and drag him out to the truck so that they can go back to Ilderton and the privacy of their home. 

In the end, her curiosity wins the battle, but she can’t help teasing him as she bats her eyelashes and replies, “Yes, Mr. Moir.”

“Okay, then let’s begin.” Scott transitions from casual to teacher mode in the blink of an eye, stepping away from her and walking over to a different area of the shop - expecting her to follow. Tessa assumes this must be how he acts and sounds when he’s got a group of kids surrounding him at the rink, ready and eager to learn about proper edges and how to avoid tripping over their toe picks, and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t attractive.

His voice seems to get a little deeper and a look of intense concentration takes over, and she follows him obediently, trying to pay attention to his words instead of the sharp angles of his face.

“There are over one hundred steps to making an ice skate. We make each piece here – the uppers, linings, soles, etc. - and sew all the leather and linings together. Over here is where we do the eyelits, lacing hooks, and tongue.”

He guides her over to a weird looking machine and shows her how a boot would fit onto it, “This is where we mold it either to standard dimensions or custom ones, if the client requests it. Then we take this tool and mold it to the sole,” Scott shows her the move with one of the unfinished skates using a funny hook-shaped thing that wouldn’t be out of place in a horror movie.

“Then the final steps include a roughing and cementing process to attach the bottom to the outsole and attaching the sole with heat and pressure. Then we use nails to attach another bottom to that. Then we clean and polish the whole thing and make it look perfect. The final step is attaching the blade.”

He hands a finished white boot over to her, letting her run her hands over it and turn it around to admire it from every angle.

“It’s beautiful, Scott,” Tessa looks up at him and is surprised to find him blushing under her praise.

“Thank you. I’ll make a pair for you, if you want.”

“Oh yeah? At a discount rate?” The corner of her mouth tilts up as she nudges his arm, and Scott laughs.

“For you? Free.”

He takes the boot from her hands and puts it back on the counter before leading her over to a scary looking piece of machinery.

“Over here is where we do the sharpening. Stand back and I’ll show you.” Scott picks up a finished boot with the blade already attached and turns on the machine, gesturing for Tessa to step back a bit further than she already has, and then laughing when she hops up on the counter behind him with an arched eyebrow as if to say _is this far enough?_

She watches as he puts on a pair of safety glasses and gloves before moving the skate into position - sparks flying as he guides the blade smoothly through the sharpener.

It’s loud and impressive and interesting and Tessa knows that she’s supposed to be paying attention to what he’s showing her - to the movement and speed of the blade and the skill it takes to do it right - but all she can focus on is Scott.

The way the veins in his forearms stick out prominently as he works the boot back and forth. How his head tilts in concentration, brow furrowed and jaw clenching. How professional he looks – so grown up and serious and in his element. The way his shoulders move and flex underneath the thin fabric of his Henley. In short, he looks _good_.

_What is it about men doing physical labor that’s so attractive?_ She muses, wishing that it wasn’t such a safety risk for her to reach out and touch him right now. Instead, she does the next best thing – pulling out her phone and snapping a few pictures.

“Tess,” Scott pulls the boot away from the machine and looks over at her, as if somehow sensing her distraction, “Are you paying attention?”

“What?” She drags her gaze away from the screen of her phone - still held high as she snaps more photos of him - only to find him smirking at her, which in turn makes her blush, “I’m sorry. You’re just hot.”

She does a funny little half shrug in apology and Scott throws his head back and laughs in that wonderful way he does sometimes when she’s taken him by surprise.

“Yeah? Is that so?” He turns the machine off and removes the safety glasses and gloves before walking over to her, spreading her knees apart and stepping in between them.

“I think my husband’s hot, so sue me,” Tessa rolls her eyes and tangles her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck – twirling the strands around her fingers and blushing a deeper shade of red at the way Scott’s eyes seem to light up at her use of the word _husband_. As if she’d given him the most amazing gift just by using that title.

“I have a better idea,” He leans in to bump her nose with his and Tessa swallows audibly, her tongue lightly grazing his bottom lip as she wets her own.

“Yeah?”

"I seem to recall that you owe me a kiss,” Scott’s hands slide up her legs, dragging the hem of her dress up as he does, and move around to her ass, sharply tugging her foreword so that she’s barely balanced on the edge of the counter – held up only by his own hips now pressed into her center.

Tessa can feel his growing erection through his jeans and her breathing becomes more shallow as she watches him in anticipation, letting him take the lead.

“Yes, I think I do,” She nods and brushes her nose against his again, tilting her head so that they’re at the perfect angle, “Did you want it on the lips or at the injury site?”

Dragging one hand down his neck to his sternum, Tessa digs her nails in just a little right above his heart on top of where she’d poked him earlier and waits for his instruction.

"On the lips. For now,” Scott smiles against her and then presses his lips firmly to hers, wrapping one hand around her back and burying the other one in her hair – using the grip to tilt her head exactly how he wants it – and Tessa surrenders completely to him.

Three days spent doing mostly this, kissing and touching and having sex, and Tessa only wants _more, more, more_. She can’t believe she wasted an entire decade being celibate, and then having mediocre sex with someone else, when she could have been having _this_ with the man that she’s come to realize is the love of her life.

Moving her hands to his waist, Tessa fumbles around with his belt buckle – attempting to get it undone along with the button and zipper underneath – until Scott’s fingers circling around her wrist stops her.

“Uh, Tess, are you sure you want to do that here?” His chest heaves with the effort to restrain himself, and Tessa giggles into his mouth. Dragging the zipper down the rest of the way despite the limited range of motion his grip causes and sliding her hand inside his jeans to cup him.

"Why? Don’t you?”

She squeezes once and then scratches lightly along his length over his underwear and Scott practically chokes out his reply, his grip on her wrist becoming almost painfully tight.

"Yes, but-“

Tessa takes pity on him and releases him, reaching down to pull her dress up higher around her hips so that it’s out of the way.

“Are there security cameras?” She asks, pulling one of his hands down to the soft flesh of her upper thigh, moaning when he wastes no time gliding his fingers higher and slipping them underneath her panties – stroking her exactly where she wants him.

“Only over the exits. None that would capture this.” He buries his face in the crook of her neck, working marks into the skin there that she probably should be more worried about, seeing as its still warm outside and scarves are impractical, but finds that she really doesn’t mind him making. If he wants the world to know she’s his, then that’s fine by her. He’s hers too.  

“Then I don’t see the problem. Take your pants off.”

Scott huffs out a laugh into her skin as he slips two fingers inside her, pumping in and out at a leisurely pace that has Tessa rocking mindlessly against his hand in an attempt to achieve more friction.  

“I don’t have a condom.” His voice is full of regret, but Tessa hardly hears him – too focused on the pleasure he’s bringing her and the effort of trying to get her own hand back down inside his pants to return the favor.

“What?” Her reply is breathy and distracted, all of her conscious thought zeroing in on the amazing feelings he’s creating between her legs, and it isn’t until he stops pumping his fingers for a second that she’s able to stutter out a reply, “Oh, that’s okay. I’m on the pill. We’re good.”

Scott groans and wriggles his pants and plain black boxer-briefs down to his knees (his choice of underwear has certainly matured since the days of his Looney Tunes boxers, Tessa notices appreciatively), stroking himself a few times as Tessa wiggles her hips forward a little to create more space for him to get lined up properly and puts her hand on the counter behind her for support.  

“Are you sure-“

Grabbing the side of his neck with the hand not currently being used to prop herself up, Tessa looks him straight in the eye and commands, “Fuck me, Moir.”

That seems to do the trick and he’s inside her almost in an instant. One long thrust and they’re joined at the hilt, moaning in unison at the connection that’s somehow both old and new all at once.

Scott moves one hand to her lower back for support, the other slamming against the cupboards next to her head as he fucks her at a steady pace.

“God, Tess, you’re amazing,” His hand drops from the cupboards and slips in between them to rub her clit in time with his thrusts, and she moans against his mouth – her eyes falling shut of their own accord as waves of pleasure wash over her.

Scott, ever the talker, dissolves into sentences like, “You feel so good,” and “Perfect fit,” and Tessa almost laughs as she realizes that she’s the ice skate now. Molding herself around his body, a body that’s a perfect fit inside her, working hard to make her feel beautiful. And when she comes, sparks flying behind her eyelids, she imagines it’s similar to how it would feel soaring across the ice with him at top speed – trusting him to catch her as she falls.  

“I can’t believe we just had sex in here,” Is the first thing he says after they’ve both come down from their respective highs and made themselves look presentable again, and Tessa does laugh then, loud and full - the noise echoing off the cement walls. 

“I’m never going to be able to look Uncle Paul in the eyes again. I’ve defiled his precious workshop.”

“It’s not like he has to know. And besides, he’ll be happy when he sees my stellar review: five stars -  _excellent_ customer service.”

Scott’s laughter joins hers and he leans down to kiss her again, still laughing even as he flicks her tongue with his own, and Tessa can honestly say that she’s never been happier.

 

* * *

  

**_September 7, 2018_ **

**_Ilderton Arena, Ontario_ **

****

Tessa sips slowly on her hot chocolate from the arena concessions stand, grimacing each time it hits her tongue. The flavor is cheap and watery, but the cup keeps her hands from turning blue and her insides from freezing as she sits in the stands watching Scott teach a group of nine year olds how to do beginning level one-foot spins.

Coming to the arena to watch him coach had been her idea, and she doesn’t regret it, but she hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly about temperature variables when she’d packed her little suitcase before leaving Montreal. In fact, she’d really only packed her basic toiletries and make-up, a handful of underwear, two shirts, and a dress. Not at all the standard of care and forethought she usually puts into packing.

Which is why she’s currently swimming in one of Scott’s hoodies, worn over one of his t-shirts and her only pair of jeans. Most of her own clothes currently receiving the honor of being the first load of laundry at the new house.

She really should just go shopping for a few extra items to hold her over until she gets the rest of her stuff from Montreal, but she kind of likes wearing his things so she hasn’t bothered to journey to London yet.

Scott yells out some sort of instructions and the kids scramble to start skating around the edge of the rink, and Tessa gives up on the hot chocolate. She’d rather have frostbite than drink another drop of that muck.

“Tess!” Chiddy waves at her and jogs over to where she’s sitting, and Tessa grins up at him – scooting over to give him room to sit down.

“Hey! Where’s Eric? Wasn’t he coming with you?”

The four of them are supposed to be getting lunch together today and catching up on the last decade of each other’s lives. Well, more like Tessa wanted to catch up on Eric and Chiddy’s lives – she isn’t exactly looking forward to answering any questions about Montreal unless they’re strictly business related.  

“Yeah, uh, he’s still in Montreal,” Chiddy states with a little laugh, shaking his head and rolling his eyes a little bit.  

“What? Why would he stay there?”

“I guess he really hit it off with your assistant, Luis, so he decided to stick around.” Chiddy explains, waving at Scott who had just noticed his arrival from the center of the ice and made a ridiculous face at them. 

Tessa pauses, picturing the two men in her head and remembering that little spark she’d noticed between them at the almost-wedding, “Oh! Well, good for him! I’m glad. Luis is a nice guy. I’m happy for them.”

“Me too. How’s the move going?” Chiddy picks up her discarded hot chocolate, raising an eyebrow in question and then taking a sip when she nods at him, grimacing just like she did. 

“It’s mostly done now. Scott sold almost all of the furniture with the trailer, so we really just had to move his clothes and personal items and stuff like that.”

“Awesome. I can’t wait to come to the house warming party,” Chiddy nudges her shoulder with his, clearly digging for an invitation, and Tessa laughs.

“Whenever it is, you’re definitely invited. I don’t think Scott’s picked a date yet.”

In fact, they haven't even discussed it at all yet, but Tessa makes a mental note to talk to Scott about it later and figure out a menu (they'll definitely need catering). 

“When are you going back to Montreal?”

Tessa bites the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to answer his question about a topic she's actively avoided thinking about for the last week, "Next Sunday. I only took the two weeks off originally, and even that felt like pushing the limits of how long I could be gone. My team will expect me back.”

“Are you and Scott going to have the party before that? Have you guys talked about it?”

She hesitates, “Not yet.”

“Not yet about the party or about going back to Montreal?”

“Um… both,” Tessa ducks her head, voice lilting upwards at the end, unintentionally turning the statement into a question, and she can feel Chiddy’s judgmental stare burning a hole through the side of her skull.

“Tess,” Chiddy warns, and Tessa spares him a quick glance to find him giving her a look that clearly says he disapproves of her reticence to talk about something so important.

“We will!” She rushes to defend herself, “It’s just been so nice this week and we’ve both been so happy. I don’t want to face the practicalities of the real world yet.”

It’s only been five days. Surely she can’t be expected to dive right into the hard topics when they haven’t even been reunited an entire week yet.

“You have to face it sometime. Unless you’re planning to just disappear again.”

Tessa sits up straight, then stands up from the bench completely – turning her back towards him - and her voice grows cold as she folds her arms across her chest. “That’s a low blow. Things are different this time.”

“I know that,” Chiddy says, softer this time – standing up beside her so that he can give her a gentle pat on the shoulder, “But that’s exactly why you need to have a full, adult conversation with him. You’re supposed to be a team here.”

He’s right. Goddamn it, he’s absolutely right. She can’t run from the conversation forever – she knows where that path leads and it’s not a place that she ever wants to go again.

“When did you get so smart?” She grumbles, pinching him playfully in the arm.

“I’ve always been the smart one, remember?” He winks, pinching her back, and Tessa breathes a sigh of relief that there’s no lingering hard feelings between them.

"Hey! You two ready to head out?” Scott walks over to them with a wide smile, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, his skates swapped out for Nikes, and he kisses Tessa on the cheek before asking, “Where’s Eric?”

"We’ve lost him to Montreal. It seems that city swallows people,” Chiddy chuckles, apparently unable to resist one more dig at her, and Tessa feels Scott go stiff at her side for a moment, before visibly forcing himself to relax – his jaw clenching and unclenching with unspoken words and silenced emotions.

“Is that so?” Scott asks, and if Tessa didn’t know him so well, she’d say he was fine, but she can tell by his voice that Chiddy’s comment was like salt in fresh wounds.

“Apparently he’s dating my assistant, Luis, now,” Tessa jumps in to explain, taking his hand and glaring at Chiddy for his poor choice of joke. The other man mouths  _sorry_ in response, and Tessa resists the urge to smack him upside the head. 

“Oh. That’s cool. Good for him. His last boyfriend was a dick.”

Chiddy groans and nods, “Oh my god, he was the worst.”

“Why? What was so bad about him?” Tessa perks up, dying to fill in the gaps for all the years she missed.

“Cheated on him. _Twice_ ,” Scott explains, swinging their hands back and forth as the three of them walk outside towards their cars.

"Let’s head to the restaurant. We can tell you all about Darren while we eat,” Chiddy says the other man’s name with a sniveling contempt that Tessa’s certain she’s never heard from him before, and it makes her laugh.

“Then Chiddy can tell you all about Zelda – yes, that was her real name, and yes, she was named after the witch,” Scott preempts her questions, “Acted like one too.”

“I’m pretty sure calling that woman a witch is offensive to witches everywhere,” Chiddy chimes in with an exaggerated shudder.

It feels like old times as they all climb into Scott’s truck (well, almost, they need Eric and his crappy euphemisms here for that) chatting and laughing and telling stories, and Tessa can feel herself easing into their easy camaraderie as if no time has passed at all.

She missed their group of friends, the three musketeers and D'Artagnan, almost as much as she missed Scott, and she hadn’t quite realized it until now.

“I missed you, Chiddy,” She says suddenly, giving voice to her thoughts, turning around to face him in the back seat and reaching out to squeeze his knee.

“I missed you too, Tess," He smiles that warm, Chiddy smile, "It’s good to have you home.”  

 

* * *

 

 

**_September 12, 2018_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

****

Tessa sits at the island on a barstool with her laptop open, trying to answer a few emails from Kaitlyn and Luis and Marie-France while keeping an eye on Scott.

Her husband (she still gets a little thrill every time she calls him that in her head) is currently standing in front of the stove shirtless, pajama pants slung low around his hips, hair delightfully fluffy and rumpled from sleep, and working on cooking up some sausages and pancakes. It smells delicious, but the view is even better.

“Scott,” Tessa starts, eyes dropping back to the last line in Kaitlyn’s most recent email: _when are you coming back?_  

“Mmhmm?” He’s humming some sort of tune, a Moulin Rouge song maybe, although she can’t quite place it.

_No time like the present, Tessa, just come out and say it_.

She's been avoiding the topic for over a week and it can't wait much longer, no matter how much she might wish it could. 

“There’s something we need to talk about.”

"Here, have a bite of this,” he turns around and sets a plate of pancakes down in front of her with the chocolate chips arranged in a smiley face, and a round of giggles bursts out of her – making him break out in a self-satisfied grin, “I used my own recipe.”

He cuts a piece off with the fork and holds it out for her, and Tessa can’t resist teasing him by maintaining eye contact as she wraps her lips around the fork and moans loudly in appreciation as the flavors burst across her tongue – putting on a little bit more of a display than strictly necessary.

She opens her eyes slowly, making sure he’s staring at her before saying in her best seductive voice, “It’s delicious.”

"Good,” Scott gulps loudly, his voice squeaking a little bit, and he turns back around to face the stove again while subtly adjusting his pants. Tessa looks back at her laptop and grins – pleased at herself and his response.  

“What did you want to talk about?”

His question is like a bucket of cold water that instantly douses her arousal, and she sighs – slumping over in her chair and tearing off a piece of the pancake to nibble on while she talks.

“Going back to Montreal.”

She practically garbled the phrase around the food in her mouth, but it’s clear by the way he goes still - the muscles in his back tensing up – that he heard her and understood. When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth.

"What about it?”

_Well, the conversation has begun, might as well dive right in_ , Tessa gulps and spins her wedding band around her finger as she begins speaking quickly.

“Um, well, first things first - I need the rest of my clothes. I can’t keep walking around in just your shirts,” She starts with a joke, attempting to lighten the mood and reassure him through humor that this isn’t going to be a bad conversation (at least, she hopes not).

Scott’s shoulders relax and he turns around to face her with a smirk and a wicked gleam in his eye that she probably should have seen coming - her thighs clenching together in response to his heated gaze.

_Nice, Tessa, way to derail the conversation before it’s even begun._

“Why not? I don’t have a problem with it,” He walks around to her side of the island, stepping between her bare legs and tugging at the hem of the red and blue plaid shirt that she’s currently wearing. His shirt. His shirt and nothing else but a tiny pair of white panties.

_In hindsight, I really probably should have gotten dressed to have this conversation._

His lips find her pulse under her jaw and Tessa tilts her head to the side, helpless to resist his advances – her hands coming up all on their own to trace along the V leading into his pants.

“It’s just not practical,” She struggles to say as Scott’s mouth finds its way to that spot under her ear that always makes her weak at the knees, his nimble fingers undoing the few buttons that she’d managed to do up before heading downstairs for breakfast and spreading the shirt wide open – leaving her practically naked in the morning sunlight.

“I disagree. It’s very practical when I want to do things like this,” He bends his head down at an angle that must be uncomfortable, but does nothing to deter him from his goal. His lips wrap around one of her nipples and Tessa’s head falls back with a moan, her hands flying to grip the back of his head and hold him in place.

“I love you,” She breathes, voice hitching as his tongue does something particularly clever, and Scott’s fingers dig a little tighter into her ribs.

“Hang on,” His teeth scrape against her skin as he stands up straight again, gripping her thighs and tugging at them until she gets the idea and wraps them around his waist, “There are better places to do this.”

She half expects him to lift her onto the counter, since it’s right there and the perfect height for him to continue what he was doing without straining his neck so much, but instead he carries her through the kitchen and into the living room – pushing the shirt the rest of the way off before dropping her onto the big grey couch and crawling over her.

“Say it again,” He murmurs into the crook of her neck, pressing his warm, bare chest into her own in a way that has her shifting her hips around – looking for friction.

_What?_

It takes her a second to remember the words she’d uttered moments ago, but then she smiles and kisses his temple, “I love you.”

Scott rewards her by running his lips down her neck and grazing his teeth along her collarbone, making her shudder.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.” Tessa’s quicker to respond, dragging her nails down his spine, making him arch into her this time, and he moans against the top of her breast.

“Again.”

There’s something almost fragile about his requests, as if he doesn’t quite believe her even though she must have said it a hundred times since returning to Ilderton, and Tessa finds herself abandoning her hand’s journey towards his ass in favor of pulling him in for a hug instead – wrapping both of her arms and legs around his body so that he’s completely circled in her embrace.

“I love you, Scott Moir.”

She says it with as much conviction as she can possibly muster, and he peppers kisses all over her face and neck – loosening her hold on him for a second so that he can push her underwear down her legs, dropping it unceremoniously somewhere on the floor.

She expects him to get straight to it. To take his pajama pants off and enter her and claim her as his once again, but instead he surprises her by shoving his arms underneath her back so that they’re squished between her and the couch cushions and nuzzles his head into her chest. Collapsing so that his weight is fully on top of her.

Tessa bursts out laughing, “All this for some cuddles?”

Scott hums happily, rubbing his nose against the side of her breast before turning his head to kiss the freckles on her sternum – right above her heart.

Tessa’s laughter turns into happy, contented sighs and she scratches her nails lightly up and down his back and they sync their breathing together.

“As nice as this is,” She begins, fingers dancing along his shoulder blades, “I’m not sure why I had to be naked.”

“You were complaining about wearing my clothes. I fixed it for you.” Scott explains simply, one of the hands underneath her sliding down towards her ass – pressing them even tighter together.

“I’m not sure complaining is the word I would use, and nudity is hardly the answer,” Tessa laughs, shaking her head in exasperation and tugging on his earlobe.

“Nudity, my love, is _always_ the answer,” Scott replies, nipping at the underside of her breast and freeing one of his hands so that he can run his fingers down her ribs, over her hipbone and thigh, and then around to the inside of her leg and back up – stopping right below where she wants him.

Tessa widens her legs, giving him a clear invitation, but even though his other hand is now firmly palming her ass, Scott doesn’t take it – just runs his fingers back up over her stomach and then over her nipple, before tucking his free hand back underneath her shoulder.

“Scott,” Tessa whines, thrusting her hips up a little. She can feel him half-hard against her, the thin cotton of his pajamas the only thing separating them, and it’s maddening, “Don’t start something if you don’t intend to finish it.”

“I didn’t start anything. I just wanted to cuddle my wife.”

“Naked cuddles, Scott. _Naked_ cuddles. If you don’t want me to go crazy you’d better do something about that right now.”

“Well, if your sanity’s at stake,” He shrugs, then tilts his head up to look at her with a crooked smile, and she knows – he has her right where he wants her.

Tessa watches as Scott frees his hands and makes his way slowly down her body, pausing to lave her naval piercing with kisses and long strokes of his tongue that have her breathless and aching in seconds.

“You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw that you kept this,” He mutters against her skin, nudging the piercing with his nose, and the action tugs at something deep inside her – a mixture of love and guilt and regret and renewed commitment that nearly has her bursting into tears.

“I love you,” She repeats herself again for good measure, holding back the rest of the words she wants to say. _I’m sorry. I’ll never leave you again. I promise forever_.

“I love you too, Tess.” Scott looks up at her, fingers stroking her hipbones, and the sight of him there, saying that, nearly drives her mindless with want.

“ _Please_ ,” She arches her back, encouraging him to move lower, and Scott answers her request by moving too low – all the way down to her knees where he starts kissing slowly up the inside of her thighs, never getting high enough to do anything to sooth the fire he’s so artfully stoked within her.

She’s so wet she can feel herself leaking down onto the couch, and that stops her cold – causing her to tense up in a way that definitely catches Scott’s attention and makes him pause.

“Everything okay?”   

"Scott, this is a brand new couch.” She points out, trying sit up, but Scott quickly puts a stop to her movement, his hand gripping her hip and keeping her close to him.

His brow knits together as he strokes his fingers up and down the back of her thigh, and Tessa shudders almost violently, “So?”

“So… I don’t want to ruin it.”  

God, when did her voice get like that? All high-pitched and needy. It’s embarrassing.

His fingers keep moving, and she had no idea that the back of her thigh was an erogenous zone, but _apparently_ Scott did.

Scott lifts her leg a little out to the side, spreading her open again for him so that he can kiss the crease between her leg and her center, and Tessa whimpers, almost missing it when he murmurs, “I don’t care about that, T.”

He licks her, long and hard, right over her clit, and Tessa’s hands shoot out to grab his hair, pulling him off her before he can really begin, “ _I_ care. What if we have guests over?”

“Fine. You have a point,” He pauses and grabs her discarded shirt from off the floor, lifting her hips up so that he can arrange it underneath her, “There. Happy?”

“Immensely.” She sighs, falling back onto the couch, and Scott wastes no time getting back to business – looping both of her legs over his shoulders so that they’re out of his way and sucking hard on her clit in a way that has the muscles in her thighs spasming around his ears.  

“God, you’re gorgeous like this, Tess. I could spend all day with my face between your legs,” His finger circles around her entrance as she blindly grabs for one of her breasts, plucking at her nipples and pleading wordlessly for more. Her other hand holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

“You taste so good. Better than I remembered.”  

She whimpers and expects to feel his fingers inside her. First one, maybe two, to join his mouth and get her really worked up, but she’s surprised to feel his thumb instead. Just one at first, hardly enough to make a difference, but then quickly joined by the other one.

“What are you-“

He tugs, widening her entrance with his thumbs, and Tessa practically screams at the sudden stretch.

“Fuck! Please! Please, Scott, please,” She begs, hands scrambling to find purchase in his hair, on his ears, anywhere she can reach him.

“You like that, Tess?”

“ _Yes_. God, yes.”

“Good girl.” He brings his mouth back down, sucking on her clit again as he begins shallowly thrusting his thumbs in and out, never slacking on their pull, and Tessa starts thrashing against the couch cushion, drenching his mouth and chin with her arousal.

He tilts his chin down, licking at her entrance around his thumbs, and it feels _so damn good_.

"Fuck, Scott,” She manages to say, accompanied by a few other choice curse words that all slur together, interspersed with high-pitched moans and needy gasps.

“Come on, Tess, come for me.” He speaks the commands against her, licking inside her again, then moves back up to scrape his teeth against her clit _just so_ and fireworks explode behind her eyes and underneath every inch of her skin as she gushes against him – just cognizant enough of her surroundings to feel grateful for the shirt protecting the cushions underneath her. It's  _definitely_ ruined. 

Scott makes his way back up her body with a shit-eating grin, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses against her skin as he goes before returning his head to where it was before over her sternum.

“While I appreciate the distraction,” Tessa pants, one hand on his back, the other tangled in his hair where his head rests above her racing heart – his breath tickling across one sensitive breast as he breathes just as heavily, “We do need to talk about Montreal.”

“What about it?” Scott asks for the second time that morning, his hands already moving up and down her sides in a way that spells further distractions to come. His cock is still pressing against her through his pajamas, needy and insistent, and she wants to do something about it – but not until they finally talk about the elephant in the room.

“I need to box up my apartment and move everything here. My lease is up at the end of the month, so at least that’s one less thing to worry about, but I do need to figure out what to keep and what to donate or sell. And we also need to discuss my commute, because until I can figure out what I’m going to do about my job I’ll need to go to Montreal to work with my team.”

It’s quiet for a second and then Scott asks, “So… you were serious?”

“About what?” Tessa tilts her head to look down at him, but he keeps his cheek determinedly glued to her chest, refusing to look up at her.

"Moving here with me.”

_Surely he must be joking_ , Tessa thinks with a laugh, “Of course I was serious.”

“Oh.”

His voice doesn’t sound like he’s joking. He sounds… surprised. It immediately sets her on edge, self-consciousness flooding her body and making her wish he wasn't in the way so that she could cover herself up.

_I thought we were on the same page here_.

“Why? Don’t you want me to?”

Scott hurries to answer her, practically tripping over his words, “Of course I do! I just-“ His voice trails off.

“You doubted me.” Tessa states, filling in the blanks with a grim set of her jaw. She’d honestly thought they were moving past this.

“No!” He nearly shouts, lifting his head up to look at her, but then his gaze falters and he drops his head back down onto her sternum, face-first this time, “Maybe.”

It stings a little. Maybe more than a little. If Tessa’s being honest, she’d kind of dreamt in her heart of hearts that she would return to Ilderton and all would be forgiven and they would live happily ever after, but… the reality is that ten days can’t repair ten years’ worth of broken trust – even if she wishes that it could. He seems to be operating under the belief that she’s going to disappear at any moment, and she can’t really blame him. Her track record isn’t exactly stellar in that department.        

“What did you think the last ten days were?” She asks softly, returning her hands to his hair so that she can run her fingers through the strands and attempt to begin to sooth his doubts.

“Honestly?”

"Yes, honestly.”

“It’s kind of felt like the eye of a hurricane. The wonderful, magical peace before the storm returns.”

“Scott,” Tessa pushes on his shoulders so that he has to raise his head up again and she can look at him when she speaks, “This isn’t the eye of a hurricane. The storm has passed. I am here to stay, I _promise_.”

She enunciates each syllable in the last sentence slowly and with fierce eye contact, willing him to believe her. There still seems to be doubt there, she can see him fighting a battle with himself behind his eyes, but he’s relaxed a little too – like he’s finally starting to believe that she isn’t going to disappear out from under him.

_That’s progress, at least._

An idea strikes her suddenly and it’s out of her mouth before she can think it over, but she finds she doesn’t regret it in the slightest.

“Will you come to Montreal with me?”

“What?” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he lifts himself up a little bit higher, trying to understand her better and focus on her words.

Tessa’s hands follow him, tracing down along the swirls of his ears and across his frankly fantastic jawline, “On Sunday, when I go back to pack and stuff. Will you come with me?”

“You want me to?” He looks seventeen again, all puppy dog eyes and shy, eager smiles, and Tessa’s heart thumps loudly inside her chest – as if it’s trying to break out and leap inside his.

_It’s always been his, anyway_ , she thinks with a contented sigh, “Yes, if you want to.”

“I do.” His response is loud and eager, practically shouting down at her, and she laughs at his contrite expression once he realizes his volume.

“I mean, I do, yes, please,” He tries again, much quieter this time, and Tessa pulls his head down so that she can kiss him.

“Good,” She nips at his bottom lip, grinding her hips slowly up against his, “Now, I believe you have me here, naked and willing, what are you going to do about it?”

Scott kisses her again, warm and wet and languid and still tasting faintly of her, “Oh, I have plans. Just you wait, Tessa Jane, just you wait.”

His voice is full of promises, and Tessa is eager to learn every single one.

 


	2. September 17-18, 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott goes to Montreal with Tessa and glimpses her world there, and some insecurities are laid bare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your responses to this story have been just absolutely mindblowing. Thank you all so much for your endless support and enthusiasm and kindness.

** so for me, will you stay? **

****

**_September 17, 2018_ **

**_Tessa’s Apartment, Montreal, Quebec_ **

****

It’s still dark when the shrill beeping of Tessa’s alarm goes off, jolting Scott from his hazy yellow dreams of summers long ago and the echoes of her laughter harmonizing with his. The sound is a nuisance that he’d happily throw against the wall if he could find it, but Tessa’s hand is there before he can move and she slips out of bed with a gentle peck on his lips – evading his attempts to keep her tucked into his side.

"I have to go to work early so that I can leave early this afternoon. Stay and sleep,” She whispers against his mouth, brushing his hair away from his forehead and stroking along his earlobe in a way that has his eyes falling shut of their own accord.

He tries to pry his eyes back open, tries to follow her movements across the room and will himself to get up and make her coffee or breakfast or do _something_ , but they had arrived in Montreal late the night before and practically crashed as soon as they reached Tessa’s apartment after driving all day, and he’s still exhausted. In fact, he’s not entirely sure his ass will ever recover from sitting in a car for that long and his right ankle had felt permanently locked into a weird angle from working the gas pedal for over seven hours straight.  

The original plan had been for Tessa to fly, but with the late addition of Scott to her travel plans the flights were too expensive for both of them and they figured it would be more convenient to rent a U-Haul so that they could pack up most of Tessa’s stuff in the same trip. A good plan in theory, a painful one in execution.

Although, he can't really complain too much because it had been pretty nice to drive through Ontario with his hand in Tessa’s while they alternated between bickering over the music and Tessa reading to him from a book called _Little Fires Everywhere_ that she’d informed him was the latest craze in the literature world.

Her voice would catch occasionally on stuff like, _“It terrifies you. That you missed out on something. That you gave up something you didn’t know you wanted…What was it? Was it a boy? Was it a vocation? Or was it a whole life?”_ And that’s when she would announce that her vocal chords needed a break and she’d turn on a Hall & Oates song – mouth twisting upwards when he immediately groaned and begged her to pick something else.

Scott wonders about that line now as he watches her tugging a pencil skirt up her legs through half-lidded eyes. He can’t help but question, has she given up something that she wanted? And was it her life with him in 2008, or is it her life now in Montreal? Was the boy her husband, or her fiance? 

Tessa notices him watching her and smiles, walking back over to the bed and pressing her thumb between his eyebrows where he hadn’t realized he’d been pushing them together - easing the muscles there, then caressing his cheek before kissing him again, “Go to sleep, Scott. I’ll be home soon.”

Home.

He wishes he knew exactly where that was.

 

\-------           

 

When he wakes up a few hours later the sunlight coming in strong through the window is lighting up her white walls and white bedding - making the whole room glow and the few dust particles lingering in the air sparkle and dance.

The unfamiliar apartment is eerily quiet. He can faintly hear cars occasionally passing by outside and the sound of a woodpecker chipping merrily away at a tree somewhere, but other than that there’s nothing. If he lays there any longer the silence will force him to  _think_ , and he doesn't want that. 

Scott sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and digging his toes into the softest white rug he thinks he’s ever felt (something to take back to Ilderton with them, definitely), and checks his phone – finding a few messages from his parents asking if they made it safely and one from Chiddy wishing him good luck. There’s also a few from Tessa that he scrolls through with an increasingly wide smile.

**Tessa 7:06am:** Just arrived at the office (why am I up so early?). Miss you already!

**Tessa 7:12am:** There’s orange juice in the fridge that’s hopefully not expired and some eggs that should be good. Sorry I don’t have much else. Love you!

**Tessa 8:34am:** Still sleeping? I wish I was still there. That bed is amazing and so is the man in it ;)

**Tessa 8:59am:** This is a disaster.

**Tessa 9:01am:** I was gone for two weeks and you’d think I was gone for two years.

**Tessa 9:05am:** Second cup of coffee. Somebody might die.

**Tessa 9:47am:** Please remind me never to order fabric the color of burnt orange marmalade EVER AGAIN.

Chuckling, Scott taps on the chat box and starts typing.

**Scott 10:19am:** Good morning! Enjoying being back at work, I take it? I hope you haven’t killed anyone yet.

The three little dots pop up almost immediately, indicating that she’s in the middle of forming a reply, and when her response does come it has him laughing out loud.

**Tessa 10:20am:** Executions have been scheduled for noon.

Still chuckling to himself, Scott gets up and carefully makes the bed – pulling the sheets tight across it and tucking everything in just the way he knows Tessa likes. When they were kids he would always complain that nobody saw the bed except them, so why did it have to be perfect? And Tessa would always roll her eyes and claim that an organized life started with an organized bed.

He pulls a pair of jeans out of his suitcase and a black shirt, tugging them both on before heading out into the rest of her apartment. They’d arrived so late the night before he hadn’t had a chance to really look around, but now that he does he nearly finds himself squinting. There are a lot of windows, which is great for natural lighting, but combined with how white everything is (walls, furniture, accent pieces, rugs) it’s nearly blinding. The only spots of color are the random collection of throw pillows scattered around. Mismatched, as if Tessa had woken up one morning and decided her apartment needed a splash of color in a hurry and hadn’t put her usual thought and care into choosing them.

It’s not a big space, but it’s cute and very Tessa and he likes it, despite the fact that Scott prefers the color choices he’d picked out for his… _their…_ house in Ilderton. There’s a comfortable looking couch and a big TV and the living room opens up into the kitchen on one end – making the space feel bigger. Her shelves are full of books, ranging from everything to Margaret Atwood to Stephen Hawking to classic French literature.

Stomach grumbling loudly, Scott makes his way into the kitchen, intending to head straight for the fridge and the promise of scrambled eggs and orange juice, but there’s a bouquet of dead roses on her kitchen table that catches his eye.

They were probably once red, but have since turned a nasty shade of brownish-black, and Scott can see a note card in a plastic prong sticking out from the top with a message printed neatly across it reading:

_Welcome home, ma chérie! I knew Paris couldn’t keep you forever, and I cannot wait for our own forever to begin on Saturday._

_Love,_ _Harry_

Swallowing the bile rising in this throat, Scott turns the vase around so that the card is facing the wall and begins making breakfast.

If he wastes a couple eggs at first by cracking them too violently, well, nobody has to know.  

He’d like nothing more than to take the whole bouquet and throw it out the window, letting it fall down onto the street below where it would hopefully be run over by a car – a big car, like a garbage truck – but if he did that Tessa would know and he doesn’t want to come across as jealous or insecure (even if, as much as he hates to admit it, he absolutely fucking _is)_.  

It’s obvious that the flowers are old – delivered before everything changed – probably long forgotten in Tessa’s haste to return to him, but the sight of them on display in her home still stings. It’s a stark reminder of how different things were only a few short weeks ago.

They haven’t talked about it, about what happened in July and August after she left Ilderton again and before she came back, so he has no idea what she was thinking or feeling during that time.

Was she happy with her fiancé here? Was she working on wedding prep and daydreaming about her future? He knows that she went to Paris for a lot of it, and he’d kind of assumed from the way she’d spoken about that that she went because she was sad or unsatisfied in some way, but they’d both been caught up in maintaining their happy bubble since his birthday and neither of them had wanted to take the plunge and talk about the hard things.

Objectively he knows that avoiding their issues isn’t going to solve anything, and was exactly the problem in 2007 that got them into this mess in the first place, but it’s still fucking hard to cross that divide. Every time he nearly works up the nerve to broach the subject, Tessa looks at him with those gorgeous green eyes and that freckled smile and he drops it in favor of trying to make her laugh instead.

But on the inside it’s been eating at him. What was it that made her run away from her wedding and drive seven hundred kilometers to return to him on his birthday? After ten years apart, he’s finding it hard to believe her when she says that the reason was _him_.

But no, Scott takes a few deep, steadying breaths, and returns to the task at hand of feeding himself, scrambling the eggs around and adding a few onions he'd found in the fridge. She did come back, that’s what’s important, and he has to trust that. That’s what matters.

He finishes making breakfast, settles in on the couch – his back turned towards the flowers and his mind determined to forget their existence and everything they imply, finds a channel doing back to back episodes of _Friends_ , and settles in.  

 

\-------

 

The sound of something dragging across the floor is the first indication that Tessa’s returned, followed by her cheerful voice calling out, “Lucy, I’m home!” in a cheap imitation of Ricky Ricardo that has him laughing in spite of himself as he gets up from the couch and heads towards the entryway to greet her.

“Hey, T,” He finds her with her arms full of thick cardboard, kicking the door closed behind her and looking entirely overdressed to be lugging in a bunch of big moving boxes. She’d stacked quite a few of them up against the wall already (the apparent source of the noises that he’d heard).  

“Hey,” she puts the rest of the boxes down and drops her purse and keys on the table by the door and bounces up to him, kissing him on the cheek.

Scott slides his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest lightly on her ass as he finds her lips and deepens the kiss, “How was work? Did everybody miss you?”

"No,” She laughs, shaking her head and heading towards the bedroom, expecting him to follow her, “I was trying to organize all the chaos, but Kaitlyn just wanted to hear about our ‘sexcapades’ over the past two weeks.” She makes little air quotes and takes her silk blouse off, hanging it up before digging around in her drawer for a replacement, “And Luis, who has stopped taking me seriously, just thanked me for introducing him to Eric. Who, by the way, has been regaling them all with embarrassing stories from our childhood.”

Scott chuckles (he can imagine Eric picking all the juiciest stories just to torture her), but his eyes have zeroed in on where her hands are undoing the hooks of her lacy black bra, revealing red marks on her skin that he wants to sooth with his tongue, and dropping the garment with a grimace back into the drawer before tugging on a grey tank top. She strips off the black pencil skirt then as well, swapping it out for a pair of comfortable looking, well-worn jeans – apparently oblivious to the effect she’s having on his pants.

It’s amazing how at ease she seems to be doing this in front of him again after all this time, and Scott wonders if she really does feel that comfortable, or if she’s trying to force them back into the level of intimacy that they used to have.

He hopes it’s the former.

Tessa grabs a hair tie and throws her hair up into a messy bun before turning to look at him – cocking her head and glancing at his crotch before giving him a tongue-touched smile, “See something you like?”

“Definitely,” He nods, letting his eyes rake over her slowly from top to bottom and then back again, “Want me to show you just how much?”

He watches as her cheeks flush pink and relishes her sharp little intake of breath, and he begins to walk towards her with every intention of proving just how gorgeous he thinks she is, but Tessa holds up her hand – placing it on his chest and stopping his advance.

“Hold that thought. We have work to do first.”

“Work?” His whine is a little embarrassing, but that honestly wasn’t what he expected her to say, “You just left work, remember? It’s play time.”

“Yes, I left early so that we could start packing. You’re the one on a deadline, buddy.” She pokes him in the chest and his hand flies up to stop her, pressing her palm into his sternum.

She’s not wrong. He could only afford to take a few days off of work on such short notice, and as such will have to drive back to Ilderton on Wednesday, but still. He’d rather be irresponsible.

“Fine. But _later_?” He drops his voice and laces the word with as much innuendo as he can manage, and Tessa’s green eyes shoot up to meet his – her tongue darting out to lick her lips enticingly.

“Yes. Definitely later,” She breathes, and Scott can’t resist kissing her briefly – laughing at her pout when he pulls away too quickly.

“Come on, kiddo. Where do you want to start?”

Tessa twists the hand on his chest around so that she can link her fingers with his and leads him back out into the living room, pointing at the shelves, “The books. Let’s start there.”

Scott grabs the tape gun and assembles a few of the thicker, reinforced moving boxes, handing the first one to Tessa so that she can start taking apart her collection.

“How does one person accumulate so many books?” He shakes his head and starts taking some of them off of another shelf next to the one she's working on and putting them into his own box.

“I had a lot of alone time,” Tessa says quietly, almost as if she’s shy or embarrassed, and Scott pauses to look over at her – finding her staring down at a copy of _Welcome to the Universe_ by Neil deGrasse Tyson as if she can absorb its contents just by looking at it.

“What?”

“All the books,” She glances up at him with an apologetic smile, her grip on the book only getting tighter, “They kept me busy.”

“Even Les Mis in _French_?” Scott teases, trying to keep the mood light - holding up the behemoth novel he’d picked up off his own shelf and arching an eyebrow at her.

“That one kept me very busy,” Tessa nods with a tiny giggle that makes him smile wider.

"You didn’t have enough to do with work and school?” He can’t help but be amazed at her. At her productivity and commitment to learning. She always was the smartest one at their school, even if Chiddy might argue that point. Always so eager to learn and expand her horizons. It’s one of the things that he’s always loved best about her.

“During the day, sure,” Tessa agrees, finally putting the astronomy book in the box and returning to clearing her shelf, “But at night… I was pretty lonely.”

Her voice drops on the last word, and Scott’s heart thumps painfully inside his chest. Maybe she wasn’t as happy here as he’d thought. Maybe both of their hearts were aching night after night under the same lonely stars.

Putting his book down, Scott reaches out and takes her hand, stepping closer so that he can kiss her shoulder and pull her in for a hug. Tessa comes willingly, tucking her head under his chin and burying her nose in his chest.

Scott brushes his lips against her dark hair and murmurs, “Ask me who won the Leafs versus the Kings game on January 5, 1991.”

“What?” She laughs in surprise, leaning away slightly so that she can look up at him.

“The Kings,” Scott answers his own question, “They won four to two. You read a million books. I watched a _lot_ of hockey.” He shrugs, letting her go and turning around to get back to work packing up the mini library, but Tessa stops him when she wraps her arms around him from behind – her face pressed against his shoulder-blades.

She doesn’t speak, but Scott can tell what she’s trying to say: _I’m sorry_.

Reaching up to place a hand on top of hers over his chest, Scott strokes her wedding ring and mentally replies: _I’m sorry, too._

        

 

A couple hours and a few pulled muscles later, they have all of the living room boxed up and the bigger furniture listed for sale on some app Tessa has on her phone. Scott had offered to take the couch back with him, but Tessa insisted that she didn’t mind selling it and, if he’s honest, the less of Montreal they take back to Ilderton, the happier he'll be.

“That’s enough for one day. I’m starving. Pizza? You still like meat and veg?” Tessa calls out, heading to the kitchen to get the number for her favorite pizza delivery from off the fridge and leaving Scott splayed out on the floor where he’d collapsed after taping up the last box.

“Sounds great.”

"Ew, gross,” She mutters instead of replying, and Scott looks up just in time to see her tossing the bouquet of dead roses with a scrunched up nose into the big black garbage bag where they’d been dumping random shit they found throughout the day as they packed and cleaned, “I can’t believe I forgot about those and let them linger for so long. Blech. The vase they were in is going to have a water stain.”

Scott laughs, relief flooding through his body at her response to the flowers from her ex. Clearly there’s no sentimental value to be found there, and he’s so grateful that he could probably sing for joy if he had the energy for it.  

“You know I have a perfectly good couch right here,” Tessa teases, walking towards where he’s still laying supine with a little more sway to her hips than usual – immediately piquing his interest.

“I know, but this is where I ended up and now I’m too tired to move.”

“How about I do the moving then?” She steps over him and sinks down – straddling his legs and resting her ass on his thighs.

“Tess,” His hands find her hips of their own accord, thumbs slipping underneath the hem of her tank top so that he can run his fingers across the silky smooth skin there, “What are you doing?”

“The pizza won’t be here for at least twenty minutes,” She smiles coyly, dragging her hands down his chest to the button of his pants and popping it open, “How should we pass the time?”

Already guessing what the answer will be, Scott gives her a lopsided grin and lightly bucks his hips up into her, “Did you have something in mind?”

She smiles wickedly, unzipping his fly and scooting further down his legs so that she can maneuver his pants down and pull out his rapidly hardening length, her warm hands wasting no time helping him rise to the occasion.

“As a matter of fact, an idea did come to me while I was ordering the pizza. I’m just so _hungry_ , you see.”

His laughter dies in his throat as she runs her tongue along the length of him, and his fingers twitch uselessly at his side until she reaches out and places one of his hands on her head, letting him help guide her movements.

“And… uh, guh,” He struggles to form a full sentence when one of her hands joins her mouth – working him expertly and putting him on the express train to orgasm, “Uh this is what you wanted?”

Tessa hums affirmatively around him, making his hand clench her hair even tighter, and he’s about to apologize when she _moans_.

“Do you like that, T?” He grunts out, digging his fingers a little deeper into the strands and nearly blacking out when she sucks him harder in response.

Scott can’t take his eyes off her. Can’t stop himself from staring at the way her head bobs up and down, his cock disappearing between her lips, the feeling of her so hot and wet.

Tessa looks up at him, her green eyes meeting his own, and she smiles, and _fuck_ if she isn’t the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life.

“Christ, Tessa, you’re so good at this,” He manages to get out through gritted teeth, his free hand reaching out for hers and clasping tightly when she laces their fingers together, and she smirks around his cock – making him get impossibly harder.

_Did she do this here with him?_ The thought pops into his head unbidden as Tessa removes her hand from his dick and slides it up his abs and underneath his shirt, dragging the back of her nails across his skin and making his eyes roll back in his head. It’s an awful thought. Something he absolutely doesn’t want to be, and shouldn’t be, thinking about, and he tries to stop dwelling on it – push it away to the past where it belongs – but now that he’s thought the words he can’t seem to stop wondering.

_Did they cuddle on that couch?_

_Did they share her bed?_

_They dated for a while, almost got married for fuck’s sake, he must have spent countless hours in this place_.

“Hey,” Tessa’s voice cuts through the dark clouds invading his mind, bringing him back to the present, “Where did you go just then?”

She looks up at him with a slight frown, her eyebrows smushed together in concern. Her hand is loosely gripping his cock again and her lips are hovering not far from the tip, and Scott swallows audibly at the image she presents.

_Stop thinking about the past, Moir, she’s right in front of you._

“Nowhere. It’s fine.”

Her face falls and Scott hastily starts backpedaling.

“No! No. Not fine. You’re amazing and this feels fucking fantastic. I’m just trying to concentrate so I don’t come too soon.”

“Scott,” Tessa’s mouth quirks up and she scratches her thumbnail along the inside of his thigh, making him shudder, “I _want_ you to come. Don’t hold back, okay?”

She redoubles her efforts and Scott groans, thrusting helplessly up into her mouth – no more room left in his brain for any thoughts that aren’t the endless repetition of _warm, wet, Tessa_.

“Fuck, T! I’m going to-“

He tries to warn her, but her hand tightens as she twists upwards, hollowing out her cheeks as she flattens her tongue against him and sucks hard, and he’s lost.

White lights burst behind his eyelids as he spurts inside her mouth. She swallows him at first, throat constricting in a way that has him coming harder, then lifts off of him so that the rest lands on his bare stomach. Apparently she’d had the foresight to move his shirt out of the way when she was scratching his abs, which he would be grateful for if he could form a single coherent thought.

Scott watches in blissed-out silence while she wipes the corner of her mouth daintily and crawls up his body to snuggle into his side, laying her head down on his heaving chest above his racing heart.

“Wow,” Is all that he can manage to say between heavy breaths. He knows he’s sweaty and gross and should really go get cleaned up before the pizza guy arrives and is scarred for life, but all of his limbs feel like jelly.

"There. I’m starting to get payback for all the times you’ve reduced me to a brainless mess in the last two weeks,” She winks and kisses him with a sweetness that contrasts sharply with the fact that he can taste himself on her tongue, and it has him already buzzing with eagerness for round two.

Scott readjusts them so that they’re facing each other side-by-side and tugs at her tank top as he nibbles her bottom lip, taking advantage of the stretchy material to pull it down one of the straps and free her breast – immediately cupping it and running his thumb back and forth over her nipple, making her whimper.

"Hang on,” Tessa gasps as he bites her pulse-point and sits up in a flash, tugging the tank top over her head – the motion loosening the already messy hair of her bun even more. He wants to bury his fingers in it again. Wants to tug it all loose so that it falls around her shoulders and she looks well and truly fucked by the time they’re done.

“Take your shirt off.”

Her wish is his command, and Scott sits up too - grimacing a little at the stickiness still covering his lower stomach - and pulls his shirt over his head.

Tessa’s just reclaimed her spot on his lap, kissing him with a vengeance and grinding deliciously against him while both of his hands take advantage of her semi-nakedness to tug and massage her breasts exactly how she likes it, when there’s an annoying buzzing sound from somewhere nearby.

_Did she leave her alarm on a delayed snooze or something this morning?_

“Pizza,” She groans against his lips. It’s a weird word to use during sex, but Scott just goes with it. Maybe she’s telling him her safe word? They’ve never needed one before, but maybe she has something specific she’d like to try tonight. Either way, Scott moves his lips down lower, encouraging her to lean back so that he can take one of her breasts in his mouth, but she only lets him suckle her for a second before she grips his hair and tugs his head away.

“ _Tess_ ,” He practically whines, trying to lean forward again, and the sound goes off for the second time.

_The doorbell_ , his brain finally supplies.  

“Pizza, Scott. At the door.”

_Oh, right. Dinner_.

Tessa looks at him and giggles, and he’s sure he must look aroused beyond belief and ready to fight anyone who interrupts them.

"Go get cleaned up. I’ll get the door and dig out some plates and napkins,” She swats his hands away and stands up, leaving nothing but cold empty air where Scott was once surrounded by wonderful warmth and pressure.

“With your shirt on, I hope,” He jokes, digging the tank top out from under the couch (how it got there, he has no idea), and handing it to her.

“Why? I bet he’d give it to us for free if I didn’t,” She winks.

“I’d rather not share anymore, if you don’t mind.” Scott replies. It’s meant to be another joke. Just a little light teasing. But his voice comes out deeper and rougher than he’d intended and he can tell from the look on Tessa’s face that she knows what he’s thinking.

It’s not a joke at all, and there are wounds there that haven’t healed.

Tessa wordlessly takes the shirt from him and puts it on, tugging at the hem and straps to make sure it’s sitting right and she’s all covered, before nodding.

_Great, now I sound like a possessive asshole_.

He escapes to her bedroom and closes the door just as Tessa opens the front door and greets the delivery boy – making up some excuse about having fallen asleep and not hearing his first ring.

There’s a loud thump as Scott’s head falls backwards against the door, and he rubs his face a few times as he berates himself. They’re not supposed to get serious like that. Everything is good. Everything is going well – great, even. They’re back together and that’s all that matters. He can’t keep getting caught up in his own insecurities like this.    

Stripping off his clothes as he walks, Scott tosses them into the hamper in the corner of her bedroom before flicking on the bright lights in her en-suite bathroom.

He turns on the showerhead, sticking his hand in the stream to test the temperature, then hops inside once it’s warm enough. 

The hot water sooths his sore muscles from the packing and the long car ride and helps ease some of the knots inside his stomach as well. That lingering tension that he can’t seem to let go of completely. And he’s starting to feel a lot better when he looks up and sees it.

On her shower rack, next to all of her fancy hair products and body wash and shaving cream, there’s a plain black Men’s 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner bottle.

_He’s been in this shower_.

Nausea hits him strong and fast and Scott’s empty stomach heaves uselessly as he reaches blindly for her body wash, scrubbing himself down as quickly as he can. He can’t bear to look at that bottle any longer than he has to. It’s as if it’s a giant neon sign reminding him of all the things he doesn’t want to think about – making his muscles tense up again and undoing the work the hot water was beginning to do.

He nearly breaks the shower handle in his hurry to turn it off, then nearly breaks a leg when he gets tangled up in the white shower curtain as he steps back out onto the floor.

Barely managing to stay upright, lashing out at the shower curtain until it falls back in place and leaves him alone, Scott turns around and finds two robes hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

_His and hers_.

Everywhere he looks there’s a reminder that she’d been building a life with another man only a few weeks ago. A man she’d cared for enough (he refuses to think _loved_ ) to very nearly marry.

_You’re here with her now, Scott._

_She came back._

_She wants you._

He tries to remind himself of these things. Tries to repeat her words and vows as he dries off his body with one of her fluffy white towels, but his traitorous brain keeps asking, _but_ _for how long?_

He grabs a pair of sweats and a shirt from his bag and puts them on, heading out of the bedroom and intending to find his sneakers and go for a run. He needs to clear his head – banish any thought of Tessa and someone else with hard physical labor - and a run around the block (two or three or ten times) will go a long way to helping with that.

But instead of his shoes he finds Tessa waiting for him with a happy smile, sitting cross-legged on the couch with two plates of pizza on the coffee table in front of her and a glass of wine in one hand. There’s a beer on the table waiting for him, already uncapped.  

“Look! Jeopardy’s on!” She’s practically glowing with happiness and it almost physically hurts him how beautiful she truly is. Has always been, whether she’s seven or seventeen or twenty-nine.

She’s Tessa, and he loves her and she loves him. He just needs to remember that.

Abandoning his plan for a run, Scott forces himself to relax and ease down onto the couch next to her, trying to give her some space in case she wants it, but not complaining when she scoots in close so that she’s tucked up into his side.

He puts his arm around her and pulls her in closer and something in his heart loosens as she sighs happily. A contented sound that fills him with warmth.

_You’re here with her now, and she wants you_.  

 

* * *

  

**_September 18, 2018_ **

**_Café de Mercanti, Montreal, Quebec_ **

 

Scott has decided that he hates Montreal, but the thing is, he’s not certain that it’s the city’s fault.

Objectively, it’s quite pretty. There are parks and a lot of people with dogs and there’s a river, which he really likes, and Tessa mentioned that there’s even a professional ice rink in town where Olympic athletes train, which is, objectively, pretty awesome.

Really, in some other life, some alternate universe where he’s a different Scott and she’s a different Tessa, they could probably be quite happy here.

But he’s not that Scott, and he hates Montreal.

Because Tessa loves it. He can see it in the way her eyes light up when she tells him about all of her favorite places, can sense it as they walk down the street towards the coffee shop after he picked her up from her office – their hands swinging in between them, can hear it in her voice as she points out different things for him to look at (the architecture and the stores and the way the light reflects off the water).

He’s supposed to believe that she’s going to just leave all of this behind? After spending all of her adult life here? _Ha_.

“Here we are: Café de Mercanti. They have the best pain au chocolat you will _ever_ taste in your life,” Tessa grins enticingly at him, using both of her hands to tug him inside the shop, and Scott can’t deny that it seems like exactly the kind of place she would love – all warm wood and white walls and artsy black and white photography on display.

It’s kind of weird, but as the smell of coffee and baked goods hits his nose, he finds that he likes it too, and it sets him a little bit more at ease. Her enthusiasm for the place is infectious.

Maybe Montreal isn’t _all_ bad.

"Tess!” A tall woman that looks vaguely familiar shoots out of her chair and greets Tessa with kisses on each cheek and a big friendly smile. Her blonde hair is partially covered by her snapback and she’s ten years older, but Scott recognizes her as the girl Tessa must have been getting on the bus with the last time he was in the city.

“Kait! Scott, this is my best friend Kaitlyn Weaver. We went to university together. Kait, this is Scott, my husband,” Tessa loops her arm through Kaitlyn’s and turns to him, a proud smile on her face as she makes introduction, and before he has a chance to respond he’s got his arms full of pink and yellow as Kaitlyn hugs him.

“It’s _so_ nice to finally meet you! I have about a million questions.”

“Go easy on him, Kait,” Tessa chuckles, both girls laughing even harder at Scott’s expression, which he knows is a mix between curiosity and absolute terror, “I’ll go place our order. Cappuccino okay?”

“Sure, T, that sounds great,” He squeezes her hand and then she disappears to stand in line, leaving him alone under the sharp gaze of Kaitlyn. He can sense the questions piling up behind her blue eyes and it makes it difficult to look directly at her.

“So Scott,” Kaitlyn begins, dipping her biscotti into her coffee and swirling it around, “Tell me about yourself.”

“Um, I'm thirty-one years old, the youngest of three sons, and I have a dog named Babcock.”

“And what do you do for a living?”

_An easy question. Okay, maybe this won’t be an interrogation after all._ He relaxes back into his chair and smiles as he thinks of his students and the store, “I teach ice skating and I own a skate shop.”

“That’s cool! I took skating classes when I was a kid, but my mother thought my talents lay more in modeling than waltzing around on ice all day. How are you liking Montreal?”

“It’s a nice city,” He pauses, trying to think of something to say that isn’t _I loathe it on principle_ , “I can see why Tessa likes it here.”

Kaitlyn picks up on his tone right away, taking a bite of her biscotti and then pressing him, “But you don’t like it here?”

_Damn_. 

“I don’t _not_ like it,” Scott corrects her, finding a diplomatic answer, “I just don’t know it as well. It’s only been a day, eh?” He chuckles, wishing Tessa would return and change the topic. Or at least bring him his coffee so that he has something to distract himself with.

“Hmm… will you be staying and getting to know it better?”

“Unfortunately, no, I have to get back to work,” He tries to sound sad about this, tries to channel the fact that he’s sad about leaving Tess into his voice, but it probably doesn’t work all that well.

“So if you’re not staying, then what exactly are your intentions towards my best friend?” Kaitlyn sips her coffee, never breaking eye contact.

“Excuse me?” Scott sputters, nearly choking on his own spit, and Kaitlyn smirks. She’d lulled him into a false sense of security and then pounced and she knows it.

“Tessa. That incredibly amazing woman over there. What are your intentions towards her?”

“Well, she’s my wife. So something along the lines of love and cherish her forever as long as we both shall live,” It’s a little sarcastic, but he can’t help it. The way she’s looking at him makes him feel instantly defensive, and defensive Scott makes snarky jokes, even if the answer is true.

“She’s giving up everything for you, you know? I hope you realize that.”

“I know,” He whispers, defenses falling, and he can tell by Kaitlyn’s nod that she gets it.

He _does_ know what she’s giving up, has seen it all firsthand now, and that’s the problem. She can’t give up everything for him or she’ll just end up unhappy again and they’ll fall apart and he’ll be left behind. It won’t work.

“I’m not saying I don’t think she’s right to do it, because I do,” Kaitlyn continues, taking him by surprise, “Harry was boring and not right for her at all and I’m so glad she finally figured that out before making a gigantic mistake. I just want you to appreciate that Tessa pretty much turned her back on her belief in logic and practicality for a second chance with you, and that’s a big deal.”

“Sorry it took so long. Slow machine today I guess,” Tessa’s return prevents him from replying as she sets down his coffee and a plate of pastries in front of him before sliding gracefully into her own chair, “Take a bite of that and tell me if it isn’t the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

She holds up the pain au chocolat and Scott appeases her by holding onto her wrist to keep the pastry steady and taking a big bite. It’s surprisingly delicious, perfectly flaky and exactly the right chocolate to bread ratio, and he smiles around his full mouth and gives her two thumbs up.

"I told you! I’m going to miss this most of all,” She sighs longingly, settling in with her own treat, and Kaitlyn slaps her lightly on the arm.

" _Most_!?” She exclaims in mock outrage. 

“After you, of course,” Tessa grins, blowing Kaitlyn a kiss, and the other girl rolls her eyes.

“You’re on thin ice, Tess. Thin. Ice.”

“You love me and you know it,” Tessa shoots back.

“Yeah, lord knows I do,” Kaitlyn says, taking another sip of coffee and then gesturing at him with the last of her biscotti, “Scott here was just telling me about his work in Ilderton. Have you thought about what you’re going to do? The commute between here and there must be crazy.”

“I’m not sure yet,” Tessa admits, brushing a few fallen crumbs off of her blouse, “The commute isn’t sustainable long term, but London isn’t exactly a fashion hub. I’ve got a meeting with Marie-France on Friday though, and she said she wants to talk it over with me, so I’m hopeful that she’ll have some ideas.”

“You could just stay here and not move,” Kaitlyn suggests, bumping her knee against Tessa’s underneath the table.

Scott’s heart stops as he waits for Tessa’s reply and he swears he can feel sweat forming on his brow, but Tessa just throws her head back with that raspy laugh he loves so much – her green eyes sparkling.

“No, no. My home is in Ilderton now, not Montreal. But you could move to London, Kait,” Tessa pokes Kaitlyn in the arm, giving her a look that suggests they’ve discussed this before, and Kaitlyn rolls her eyes like it’s the scripted response, but then a slow smile spreads across her face.

“Well, not London, but maybe the Kitchener-Waterloo area.”

“What?” Tessa sits back, eyebrows shooting upwards, and Kaitlyn looks about ready to burst with her secret.

“Andrew’s from there and he wants to move back, and he wants me to go with him. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you.”

“And you’re going!?” Tessa’s spine is ramrod straight, and she’s practically buzzing with contained excitement. Scott can tell she’s already mentally calculating the distance between the two towns and how often she could feasibly visit and he nearly leans over to whisper the answer (she always did hate math).

“I’m considering it,” Kaitlyn gently corrects her, but if Scott had to guess he’d say the soft smile on her face means the answer will be yes.

“I hope you do,” Tessa replies, taking Scott’s hand under the table and stroking her thumb across his knuckles, “It would be wonderful if we were neighbors. Well, almost neighbors. You know what I mean. Andrew and Scott will get along great and we could have Sunday dinners together and you could join us at the cabin in the summer!”

“Whoa, slow down there. I haven’t decided yet so don’t get carried away,” Kaitlyn reprimands her gently, but Scott disagrees wholeheartedly.

_Please, please get carried away. I want to hear all about this life you’ve imagined for us_ , he thinks with a grin – balloons swelling inside his chest at the way she so casually mentions their future.

“Sorry,” Tessa chuckles, taking a big gulp of her latte and shrugging, “I’m just really excited.”

“I know, Tess, it’s sweet,” Kaitlyn smiles, “So what’s your plan for the rest of the week?”

“Scott’s driving back tomorrow with most of my stuff, then I’ll drive back on Saturday with the rest of it and my car. We’ve got a house warming party on Sunday that Chiddy and Scott’s entire family insisted we throw, probably for the free food, and then I’ll fly back to Montreal Monday morning,” Tessa explains and Kaitlyn’s mouth drops open.

“Wow. That’s a busy schedule.”

“I know, but until I figure out the career situation we’ll just have to make it work,” Tessa shrugs again and Scott watches her guiltily.

He loves that she’s apparently been planning out their future and it’s a relief that she seems so happy at the prospect, but is it really the best choice? Is she really ready to uproot her entire life and career?

Can he ask her to? Is he just being selfish? 

The rest of the lunch goes well and Scott decides he genuinely likes Kaitlyn, but he can't stop mulling over whether or not he's making the right choice letting Tessa leave all this behind.

 

\-------         

 

“Phew!” Tessa slumps down onto the couch hours later, the tape gun falling from her fingers down to the floor with a loud _thunk_ that probably left a dent in the hardwood, “Moving is exhausting and I am never doing it again.”

It’s tempting to join her on the couch, but Scott’s exhausted too after getting everything in the kitchen packed away while she focused on her bedroom and bathroom, and he knows that if he let them, they’d both fall asleep there and then just end up more sore tomorrow.

“Come on, T, let’s go to bed. We’ll take all the boxes out to the U-Haul in the morning before I leave,” He reaches for her hand to help pull her up, but she doesn’t budge an inch.

Her eyes are closed and she barely shifts at all as she grumbles, “Can’t move” and burrows further into the couch cushions.

“You have to. You can’t sleep there,” Scott chuckles, “Come on, kiddo.”

Tessa still doesn’t budge, so Scott takes matters into his own hands – literally – shoving one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees and lifting her up from the couch.   

She squeals in surprise, both arms going around his neck to hang on, but she doesn’t fight him on it – instead letting him carry her into the bedroom and deposit her on the bed with ease (all those hours at the gym with Eric and Chiddy over the years paying off).

“Are you going to take off your clothes or shall I?” He gives her a lopsided grin, popping the button on her jeans, and Tessa raises her hips with a sleepy smile.

"You do it.”

That’s a command he’ll gladly follow any day, and Scott gets busy removing her pants, tugging forcibly when the skinny legs gets stuck, and then pulling her shirt up over her head. Tessa’s only contribution is sitting up and raising her arms up high enough to get them out of the way, but other than that she doesn’t even try to keep her eyes open.

“Pajamas?” He prods gently, putting her clothes in the hamper and plugging in her phone so that she has a full battery in the morning. He wouldn't mind if she slept mostly naked, but he wants her to be comfortable. 

“Your shirt,” She counters, sticking out one arm to the side, palm facing up in expectation, and Scott pulls his shirt off and hands it to her, grinning at how pleased she looks as she puts it on and the way she tucks her nose into the collar and breathes him in.

He tucks the sheets and blankets in around her and brushes her hair behind her ear as she snuggles into the pillow, and his heart grows three sizes when he presses a kiss to her forehead and she smiles.

“Love you,” She slurs, and Scott kisses her one more time for good measure before turning out the light.

Assuming that she’s fast asleep, he busies himself getting ready for bed. Brushing his teeth, changing into his pajama pants, washing his face, double-checking that the front door is locked. Finally when all the lights are out and he’s done, he slides into the bed behind her, taking extra care not to jostle it too much and wake her up.

He’s exhausted, but past the point where sleep will come easily, and so he rolls onto his side and watches her instead. Observing the way the night turns her hair into a dark raven color and the steady rise and fall of her rib cage.

“I hope you think I’m worth it,” He whispers, finally shutting his eyes and trying to let sleep claim him.

They shoot back open a second later when he feels Tessa moving – rolling over so that she’s facing him now and fixing him with a sharp look. One hundred percent awake and nearly scaring him half to death in surprise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She’s whispering too, but her voice is like steel, and Scott gulps.

“I just meant that you’re giving up everything to move in with me,” He shrugs helplessly with one shoulder, his eyes dropping to stare at her hand where it rests on the mattress between them, the silver band shining like a beacon in the moonlight. He can see it coming, but he's still surprised when she reaches out to caress his face, tracing the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones – his eyes falling closed as her fingers move over his eyebrows.

“I’m not giving up anything, Scott. I’m gaining _everything_.”  

His eyes flutter back open to find her much closer, fixing him with an intense look as she slides one of her legs between his and reaches for his hand.

“But-“ He begins to argue, but she cuts him off by placing a finger over his mouth.

“But nothing. I thought long and hard about us while I was in Paris and then during the week after I came home, and then for seven and a half hours while I drove through the night to get back to you. You’re it for me, Scott. Of course you're worth it. I want everything with you.”

"But Montreal. Fashion. It’s your dream. I could move here, if you want,” He offers. They talked about it when she first returned and she’d said no, but after seeing all this he wants to make sure she knows that she has a choice. He may not like Montreal, but he could learn to live here for her, if she asked him to.

Although they'd definitely have to find a different apartment. 

"Montreal was never the dream, Scott, it was a means to an end. Remember in the book we read driving up here? How it said that sometimes you need to scorch everything to the ground, and start over? That's what moving to Montreal was. An escape, not a solution. But it also said that after the burning the soil is richer, and new things can grow, and that's what I want now. Fashion I can figure out how to do from Ilderton. My  _dream_ is to be with you again,” She bumps her nose against his and Scott tries, but can find no trace of doubt in her voice.  

“Yeah?” He finally forces himself to ask, daring to hope that she’s serious.

“Yes,” She replies with a firm nod, making any remaining distance between them disappear as she brings her lips to his. Kissing him solidly and with clear intent – their bodies pressed together from head to toe.

It’s like a dam is unleashed inside him, and he can’t stop the words that rush from his mouth, “I love you, Tessa, I always have. I’m sorry for never coming to find you during all those years apart or writing or calling. I hid my fear that you didn’t want me anymore behind the excuse that I was waiting for you and let an entire decade pass us by. I was an idiot and it will always be my biggest regret.”

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long. I know I promised to come home, but I chickened out. Eventually staying away became easier than trying to fix what went wrong.” Tessa confesses, refusing to let him create any distance and instead sliding her leg further between his own so that they’re even more entangled.

“Trying to fix me, you mean?” Scott huffs with a self-deprecating chuckle, and Tessa frowns.

“No. Our lack of communication is what went wrong. I never told you how I was feeling, so you had no idea how to actually talk to me. And I was very depressed, I know that now, and it was warping the way I looked at everything. I really should have gotten help from an expert.”

Scott slides his hand up her back underneath her shirt, pressing his palm flat against her spine and kissing her nose, “I never should have listened to Mrs. Campbell.”

“What?” Tessa’s head shoots back, “What’s that old bat got to do with anything?”

Did he never tell her? He could have sworn he’d mentioned his conversation to her long ago, but maybe it was one of the many things that was left unspoken between them, “She told me to give you time and space to heal. To basically wait it out.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Tessa scoffs, rolling her eyes so hard he’s worried they’ll roll right out of her head.

“I thought she knew what she was talking about!” He defends himself, digging his fingers into Tessa’s ribs and making her squirm.

“Maybe. But Scott, you knew _me_. You should have known that wasn’t the right choice.”

She has a point. He’d wondered many times during those rough months before she left if he was making the wrong decision. If he should scrap the whole wait-and-see plan and just pull her into a tight hug and smother her with care and affection, but he never did.

"I was nineteen. I didn’t know anything.” It’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. He’d had no idea how to handle himself or her or any part of their situation, so he’d shut down in his own way.

“Me either,” Tessa concedes, her own fingers gliding up his spine to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, “We both made mistakes. The point is I’m sorry for shutting you out and for staying away for so long. I know what it’s like to live without you, Scott, and I never want that again. I _want_ to move back to Ilderton and be with you. I gave up all the wrong things for love ten years ago, it’s time I gave up all the right ones.”

He wants to dig deeper into that. Wants to talk about her claim that she made the choice to leave him because she thought it was the best thing for him. And, yeah, he probably wants to yell at her for taking his choice away and cutting him entirely out of the decision making process, but she yawns so widely – her jaw popping loudly – that he presses his lips tightly together and keeps his mouth shut. Choosing instead to stroke her hair and kiss her softly.  

She peppers her own kisses along his jaw before tucking her head underneath his chin and sighing, “Now, I’m going to go to sleep because I’m exhausted, but in the morning I want to have slow, lazy, morning sex with you before we finish packing. Deal?”

“Deal.”

 


	3. September 22, 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot of smut and a smidgen of plot. ... You're welcome?

** that's what the promise is for **

****

**_September 22, 2018_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

****

It’s been twenty days since Tessa last made this drive. Following the long, seemingly unending road from Montreal to Ilderton – only stopping along the way for coffee refills and fresh batches of Timbits. Although this time her drive has been peppered with phone calls updating Scott on her journey and happily singing along to her favorite showtunes, instead of chewing her bottom lip raw and trying not to vomit with anxiety.

This time she knows with certainty that at the end of her journey she’ll find a funny, kind, handsome man with a special smile that he reserves just for her waiting with open arms. A man with whom the past twenty days have been practically perfect in every way ( _thank you very much, Mary Poppins_ ).

They’re reunited, they’ve moved into a new house together, Scott’s seen Montreal and met some of her friends there, and she has news to share with him that she knows is going to make him very excited. Tessa can say confidently that she hasn’t been this happy and content with her life in a long, _long_ time.

The only thing gnawing at her – just a niggling thought in the back of her mind – is that she knows Scott still doubts her sometimes, although he's working to move past it. They’ve talked about it a little bit, and she must have said “I love you” a thousand times since returning (and she’ll keep on saying it as often as possible, to make sure he doesn’t forget), but she can still sense it. Can see flashes of it in his eyes, hear it wavering in his voice, feel it in the brief too-tight grip of his fingers around her hand. She knows it’s a wound that will take time to heal, she just wishes she could jump in there and superglue everything back together and get it over with, instead of having to wait for the sutures to heal naturally.

The roads in Ilderton are completely empty and the midnight sky is awash with stars as Tessa steers her car the final few kilometers towards home. She’d opened the sunroof as soon as the sun had set just to appreciate how many more stars are visible in the countryside than in Montreal, and the knowledge that if she looks up she’ll find Cassiopeia winking at her is soothing in a way that it hasn’t been in over a decade.

An old Nickleback song comes on the radio, and Tessa flicks the dial over to something else immediately, turning up the volume when she recognizes the familiar voice of Adam Levine wailing the lyrics to _This Love_.

She and Scott had danced to that song at their Halloween dance in 2004, she remembers. She’d been asked out by another boy and Scott had gone with another girl and yet they’d both ended up leaving together anyway – grabbing Timbits like the ones that used to be in the box sitting next to her in the empty passenger seat and heading just outside of town to stargaze.

Smiling fondly at the memory, Tessa starts to sing along with the chorus, “This love has taken its toll on me, she said goodbye too many times before. Her heart is breaking in front of me, I have no choice 'cause I won't say goodbye anymore.”

_I really hope Scott hasn’t listened to this in the last ten years and started relating to Maroon 5_ , she thinks with a grimace.

When she pulls up to the house, limbs stiff and butt completely numb, she isn’t surprised to find that the only signs of life are the outside lights framing the front door. She’d ended up getting a late start leaving the city – letting herself get a little caught up in bittersweet feelings about locking up the apartment that had been her home for so many years for the last time that morning - and then the drive had taken longer than expected due to a nasty accident on the 401.

Leaving the boxes in her car to be unloaded in the morning, she quietly unlocks the front door and slips inside. There aren’t any lights on in any of the rooms that she can see and she briefly wonders if Scott gave up waiting for her and went to bed, but when she heads down the hallway towards the back of the house she can see the lights from the TV in the living room.

Scott is slumped over on the couch, breathing deeply, an empty plate and half-empty glass of water on the coffee table in front of him, and _Are You Still Watching?_ is printed in bright white letters on the screen over an episode of  _The Office_.

Shaking her head affectionately, Tessa clears up his dishes – depositing them in the sink to be washed in the morning – then bends down in front of him and begins running her fingers tenderly through his hair.

It’s such a nice length now. Fluffy and tuggable and _attractive._ She can’t get enough of it.

His eyes slowly drift open and he blinks at her in wonder, “You came back.”

_It’s just his phrasing, Tessa, it doesn’t mean anything_ , she forces herself to remember, stroking her fingertips across his jaw, “Yeah, finally. Traffic was a nightmare.”

He hums something nonsensical, tilting his head further into her hand and mumbling, “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” She can tell that he’s already beginning to drift off again, so she stands up and tugs at his hand, “Come on, sleepyhead, let’s get you to bed.”

She can’t carry him bridal-style like he did for her back in Montreal, but Tessa manages to get him up off the couch and guide him upstairs – pulling off his shirt and jeans once they’re in their bedroom and chuckling at the memory of how he’d had to do the same thing for her only a few days ago. They really need to get on a more regular sleep schedule. That, or start wearing muumuus so that they can undress each other more easily.  

Eric and Chiddy would have a field day if they ever saw them dressed like that. 

He crawls into bed as soon as she’s moved the blankets out of the way and sticks his hand out for her, frowning when she doesn’t immediately follow him under the blankets, and his pout is so adorable that she has to laugh.

“I have to change first,” She explains apologetically, grazing his outstretched hand with her own, but pulling away before he can latch on and tug her into the bed. She knows that if he tried she’s tired enough that she’d let him, and then she’d be furious at herself in the morning for sleeping in her make-up and not brushing her teeth.

“Don’t change. I like you just the way you are,” Scott mumbles, and even half-asleep he still manages to smile proudly at the sound of her laughter. 

She heads into the glorious bathroom that she hasn’t had enough time to properly appreciate yet and goes through a sped-up version of her nightly routine, then grabs one of his clean white t-shirts and climbs into bed – snuggling in close behind him and throwing an arm over his waist.

She’s asleep almost the second her head hits the pillow.

        

 

“ _Tess.”_

Something is tickling her face.

Tessa can’t be sure what it is exactly, because she refuses to open her eyes, but there is definitely something that keeps running down the bridge of her nose and if it doesn’t stop she is going to sneeze.

“Go away,” She rubs her nose impatiently and turns her head to the side, determined to fall back asleep. It’s Sunday morning and she has nowhere to be and dammit, she is _going_ to sleep in.

“That’s not very nice, kiddo,” Scott’s disembodied voice chastises her from somewhere on her left side and Tessa sticks a hand out blindly over the edge of the bed until she finds something solid that vaguely feels like a body and can push against it.

“I’m sleeping!”

“But I have a surprise for you!” He practically whines, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and moving her hand slightly to the side – it takes her brain a second to catch up and realize that he’s standing by the side of the bed and she’d been attempting to shove him away via a rather sensitive part of his body, and she blushes.

Her eyelids remain firmly pressed shut though as she continues arguing with him, “Not right now you don’t. Come back in a few hours.”

“It’s time sensitive,” Scott replies and then she can feel something being waved around underneath her nose and the most delicious smell of cinnamon hits her and her eyelids shoot open.

“You made French toast?”

Scott grins down at her, a plate in one hand near her face and a tray carefully balanced in the other loaded with syrup, orange juice, eggs, and sausage.

“I sure did! I figured you probably didn’t eat much food yesterday during the drive that wasn’t some form of fried, sugary dough, which meant you’d probably be starving this morning.”

Tessa scoots up so that she can sit with her back against the headboard, gazing up at him in wonder, “You made me breakfast in bed?”

“Yep!” Scott sets the tray down on her lap with a little flourish, “Tada!”

“This is amazing. You can wake me up like this any day,” She grabs the fork and digs in, pouring a generous amount of syrup over the toast and taking a large bite – moaning around the food as it hits her tongue, “God, Scott. Did you become a gourmet chef while I was away?”

Scott chuckles and climbs into bed next to her, snatching one of the sausages off her plate and munching away happily, “Nah. I’ve just had a lot of years to practice without you witnessing all my mistakes. Trust me, there were a lot of burned eggs.”

There’s a tightness in his voice as he jokes. A tension that proves he isn’t as comfortable as he’s pretending. But Tessa appreciates that he’s _trying_ – trying to move past it and be okay with it. Which is good, because joking about it means that they’re healing, so Tessa laughs and holds out the fork with a bite of toast for him to eat.

“Well I’m certainly grateful that I get to reap the benefits now,” She leans over and kisses him, syrup mouth and all, and the soft smile on his face warms her in a way the sunshine filtering through the windows never could, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“The caterers are bringing the food at five, people will start to arrive a little after that, and the game starts at six,” Scott slouches back down on the bed so that his head is resting by her hip and loops his arm underneath her knee – drawing patterns on her lower leg. She’d gone to bed last night in only a t-shirt and her underwear, and his fingers on her bare skin are soothing and arousing all at once.

She gulps down a large helping of orange juice before replying, “So that gives me a full day to clean. Perfect.”

“You don’t need a full day for that. We’ve barely lived here long enough to make a mess. And actually,” Scott drawls, tilting his head to look up at her, “I had something else in mind for the morning.”

“Oh yeah?”

Scott hums and moves his arm so that he can shift around and kneel beside her, taking the now empty tray and moving it to the bedside table while she watches him.

Tessa has a pretty good idea of what’s on his mind, but she’s content to wait for a moment and find out if she’s right.

“Thank you for breakfast,” She says while Scott spreads her knees apart and kneels in between them (she was right) - pulling her down the mattress so that she’s lying down on her back again, “It was delicious.”

“I’m glad, but I have to admit it was selfishly motivated,” His hands slide up her naked thighs, over her hips, and underneath the large t-shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her body instantly reacting to his touch like it always does and spreading goosebumps across her skin.

"Oh yeah?” Her response ends in a gasp when his hands find her breasts, massaging them in unison and making her arch her back in encouragement. Nobody has ever touched her like Scott does, and nobody ever looked at her like she’s the beginning and end of everything like he does either. His beautiful eyes growing darker as they stay fixed on her - even as he lowers himself down and brings his mouth to one of her hipbones.

“Yeah,” He moves his lips against the skin there, running his tongue along the band of her underwear, “I wanted you to have enough energy.”

He tweaks one of her nipples and Tessa’s hand shoots up to cover his hand there, clasping him tighter to her breast and panting, “Energy for what?”

“For this,” Scott licks her in one long motion right over her clit through her cotton panties, and Tessa’s hips shoot off the bed.

“I always have energy for this,” She moans as he continues lapping at her, just enough sensation to keep her on edge, but not enough to send her over, and lets her head fall back onto the pillow and her eyes screw shut.

Scott drags the hand she doesn’t currently control down her ribs and across her stomach to play with her underwear, slipping two fingers inside the band and tugging upwards before letting it snap back against her body.

“Scott, _please_ ,” She whines, thrusting her hips upwards again and whimpering when he pulls his mouth away.

“Please what?”

“Take them off,” She commands, leaving no room for argument, and yet Scott smirks and argues anyway. 

“Here I go to all the effort of making you breakfast, just to be nice, and yet when it’s my turn to eat you get all bossy and tell me what to do? That’s just rude, T,” Scott wags a finger at her, actually fucking wags his finger like she’s a little kid, so Tessa flicks his ear – laughing when he rubs it with his hand and pouts up at her from between her legs.  

“You already admitted you had selfish motivations,” She sits up just enough to pull her shirt over her head and toss it somewhere onto the floor, trying to speed things along, “You can accuse me of the same.”

“Maybe I just won’t eat at all,” Scott shoots back, moving up her body and taking her legs with him, and Tessa’s infinitely grateful that Kaitlyn dragged her to regular yoga classes over the years, otherwise she would be acutely uncomfortable right now.

As it is, being nearly folded in half while he bends down to kiss her is kind of a stretch. Although a worthwhile one when he starts grinding against her – his dick lined up just right to apply pressure exactly where she needs him.

There’s still too much fabric in the way, but it’s enough to get her back to the edge again and soon Tessa can hear herself mewling into Scott’s mouth – seconds away from outright begging. If he just moves a little more firmly, she'll be there.

“Are you going to behave now?” Scott sits up, ignore her protests ( _she was so close_ ), and lets her legs fall back to the mattress - scratching his fingernails across her abdomen and down to her underwear before slipping his fingers back underneath the band and waiting for her answer.

"Are you going to fuck me now?” Tessa shoots back, arching an eyebrow and him and running her foot along his calf.

“Not if you keep bossing me around,” Scott tugs her underwear, pulling it tight against her center, and Tessa decides she’s had enough of the teasing.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself,” She keeps her eyes trained on his face, watching as his eyes follow her hand as it moves over her breast – pausing to pluck at her nipple for a second, harder than he had been doing – then across her abs and between his hands to disappear into her underwear.

The first contact of her fingers directly on her clit as her moaning in ecstasy, her eyelids clamping shut for a minute before she manages to regain her composure and find his face again.

Scott’s pupils have been practically blown wide as he stares down between them, his eyes fixed on where her hand is moving underneath her underwear, and his fingers have all gone white at the knuckles where they grip the fabric around her hips.

"Remember when you made me sit on your face on our tenth anniversary?” Tessa manages to ask between heaving breaths, slipping two fingers inside and trying her best to make sure he can hear how wet she is.

“Made you,” Scott scoffs, dragging his eyes away to look at her face while she talks, “I’ve never _made you_ do anything.”

“Encouraged, then,” Tessa amends, grabbing one of his hands and dragging it up to her breast.

“Of course I remember.” Scott groans, released his grip on her underwear completely and moving his hand to cup hers so that he can feel it moving through the fabric.

“I got myself off to that memory _a lot_.”

“You did?” He licks his lips, and Tessa can see the sizeable bulge that’s formed in his sweatpants.

_Almost there_ , she thinks with a smirk, _he won’t be able to hang onto his control for much longer._

“Ooohh yeah,” She nods her head enthusiastically, adding a third finger inside herself and thrusting against both their hands at a quicker, harder rhythm, “All the time. It was my favorite memory. Used to kneel up on the bed and grind against my pillow or my fingers or my vibrator. Imagined your head between my legs. Your eyes looking up at me with the same expression you have now. It wasn’t the same – not even close – but it always made me come the hardest.”

“ _Fuck_ , Tessa,” Scott’s on her immediately, ripping her underwear off her legs and bringing his mouth back to her center – licking enthusiastically around her fingers before she has a chance to move them out of the way, then replacing them with his own.

Her hand, now unneeded, moves to grip his hair, getting her slick fingers tangled in the strands, but Scott doesn’t seem to care. In fact he doesn’t seem to care about much besides making her come as quickly as possible – working her with three fingers and his lips and his tongue in perfect harmony, and it’s a mere matter of seconds before she shatters around him. Her hips jerking violently and lungs gasping for air.

Scott tugs his own clothing off while she recovers, throwing each item in the same unknown direction as her shirt and underwear, and puts on a condom before crawling up her body and kissing her solidly on the mouth.

“You’re so impatient sometimes,” He reaches between them and lines himself up, slowly pushing inside and moaning against her lips.

“I know,” Tessa replies with a little laugh once he’s fully sheathed inside her, his forehead pressed against hers as they both adjust to the feeling. She wraps her legs around his waist while she waits for him to move, hooking her ankles together over his lower back, and Scott groans at the deeper angle.

“Sometimes it’s nice to go slow,” He pulls out almost completely and then sinks in again at an achingly slow pace, proving his point.

He keeps them there, hanging on the edge – refusing to increase his speed even though there are beads of sweat forming on his forehead and neck and the tendons in his jaw have gone taut with the strain – and taking extra care to kiss every inch of her skin that he can reach.

Tessa’s not sure if she can remember ever feeling so absolutely _consumed_ by him before. As if her whole body has given itself over completely to Scott’s will – waiting for his command. She could drop her legs and start pushing against him. Force him to move faster. But she doesn’t want to. She’s enjoying the slow descent into madness as he drives her arousal higher and higher. Lets him keep control like he originally wanted.

And this time Tessa’s orgasm builds slow and steady, like magma filling up the chamber waiting for permission to explode, building and building until finally Scott starts talking.

“Fuck, Tessa. You feel so good, baby. I love the way you move, the way you taste, the noises you make just for me. I wanna see you come, Tess. Come for me,” He works a hand between their bodies and circles her clit once, twice, three times, and she erupts – heat rushing from her center and through all of her limbs in a delicious flood that has her legs collapsing bonelessly onto the mattress, and Scott finally allows himself to speed up – thrusting faster and faster to find his own release and in doing so drawing out her own orgasm. Until there’s nothing left in her head but how fucking amazing and completely sated she feels.  

Scott shudders against her, head buried in her neck and biting hard enough to definitely leave a mark, and Tessa barely has the presence of mind left to run one hand soothingly up and down his back – holding him through his orgasm and the aftermath until he’s able to roll to the side, still panting.

Throat dry and sweat still glistening on her body, Tessa manages to croak, “You’ve successfully proved your point,” and Scott bursts out laughing – his body shaking against hers as he wraps an arm around her waist.

"Thank you.”

He kisses her neck, soothing the spot he’d bitten with his tongue, and Tessa lets him continue for a moment before pulling away and twisting her head to look at him, “We should really take a shower. We’re all gross now. And I’m definitely going to have to wash these sheets before our guests arrive.”

“Nobody’s going to come into our bedroom, T,” Scott chuckles, getting out of bed and disposing of the condom.

“It’s a house warming party, Scott,” Tessa points out, following after him on shaky legs and picking up their trail of discarded clothing to throw in the hamper, “Touring all of the rooms is kind of the point.”

“I guess that’s true,” He grimaces, “Okay, fine. You hop in the shower and I’ll start a load of laundry.”

Tessa stares shamelessly as he starts pulling the sheets off the bed, apparently not bothered at all by his own nudity, perhaps his own attempt at increasing their intimacy like she’s been trying to do by regularly changing in front of him, and decides that laundry and cleaning can wait.

She walks over and slides her fingers around his waist, grinning when he jumps and stands up straight – his voice squeaking as he asks, “Uh, Tess, what are you doing?”

“I have an alternate plan, Mr. Moir,” She runs her lips back and forth along his back, nipping at his shoulder-blade, “How about WE hop in the shower and do the laundry later.”

The grin is evident in his voice when he says, “That, Mrs. Moir, is an excellent idea.”

 

\-------

 

“Oh! I have something I wanted to tell you!”

Scott’s hands continue lathering her hair with shampoo, probably using more than strictly necessary, but it feels nice so she doesn’t stop him.

“What is it?”

“My conversation with Marie-France on Friday. I’ve been waiting until I could tell you in person. We figured out my job situation!”

Scott spins her around, accidentally putting her face directly under the water stream for a second and making her splutter as she wipes the water and soap out of her eyes, “And you waited until _now_ to tell me!?”

“When should I have told you? When you were eating me out?” Tessa chuckles, altering her voice to tease him, “Oh, excuse me honey, could you stop that for a moment so I can discuss work?”

Scott laughs, “Fair point. So what did you decide?”

"Marie is going to absorb my company into hers. Nobody is going to lose their jobs, which I am especially happy about, and I’m going to become her junior partner. I can design from here – maybe open an office in London, if I want to – and my name will still be on my pieces, but under her label.” Tessa explains enthusiastically, looping her arms around his neck and grinning up at him while waiting for him to process the information.

“And you’re okay with that? I mean, I don’t know much about fashion, but weren’t you trying to build your own label thingy?” His brow furrows as he looks down at her, his own hands moving to rest on her ass like it’s second nature (which is a marvelous sign that he’s getting used to touching her again and Tessa would absolutely not mind more of that, thank you very much).

“I was, but frankly – it was a _lot_ of hard work. And I love hard work, I do, but it would have been impossible to try and move to London and stay relevant in the industry. The closest I could have feasibly made work is Toronto and that would be a really long commute every day and my team would have all lost their jobs and I would have had to hire new people. This is a great compromise.”

"And you’re sure about this?”

Scott still looks skeptical, so Tessa makes sure to enunciate each word as she replies, “One hundred percent. I still get to design, that’s what’s important, and I get to fall asleep and wake up next to you every day – that’s even more important. Especially since I know what waking up with you entails,” She gives him a tongue-touched smile, cocking her head and laughing when he pinches her ass in retaliation.  

“Do you think you’ll rent space in London then?” Scott asks, his hands returning to their task of washing her hair.

“Maybe someday. If Kaitlyn does end up moving with Andrew and if Luis and Eric end up getting serious with their relationships then we could form a small team out here,” Tessa muses, shifting so that her hair is under the water and she can rinse out all of the shampoo.

"As long as you’re happy, Tess,” Scott reaches for the conditioner next and squirts some into his hand, gesturing for her to turn around so that he can start working it into her hair.

“More than happy. This honestly couldn’t have worked out better if I’d dreamed it all up in a fairytale,” She hums happily, moaning a little when he massages the back of her neck, and Scott surprises her by hugging her from behind – resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I did dream this up, and reality is _still_ much better,” He plants a kiss on her shoulder and goes back to washing her hair, but Tessa has other things on her mind now. Things that involve putting the built-in seat in the shower to good use.

Turning around, Tessa quickly rinses the conditioner from her hair – impatiently running her hands through it to make sure she gets it all out.

“Uh, I wasn’t done yet,” Scott replies, watching her actions and completely nonplussed.

“I was,” Tessa states, dragging her eyes slowly down his chest to his cock and back up, and she can tell when she looks at his face again that he understands what’s about to happen.

Tessa pushes him backwards until the back of his knees bump into the seat and he has to sit down, licking her lips as she runs her hands through his hair and down his neck and across his shoulders.

Scott brings his hands up to her hips, caressing her skin with his thumbs and leaning forward to gently kiss her bellybutton piercing, and Tessa’s suddenly taken back to Canada Day when they were in a position similar to this – only with a few more clothes on.

“Scott,” She breathes, eyelids fluttering closed as he wraps his lips around the two silver balls and sucks.

“Yeah, T?”

“Do you remember a couple months ago when I cut your hair?”

“Yes,” He murmurs against her, lightly biting her and sending electric shocks right down to her core.

“When you…” Heat rises in her cheeks as she flushes all the way down her chest – which is utterly ridiculous given all the sex they had in the past and all they’ve been having now, “Unbuttoned my pants and kissed me like this… what would you have done if we hadn’t been interrupted?”

The thought has been plaguing her for the past two and a half months. Would he have taken things further? Would she have let him? Did he want her? She definitely wanted him, even if she had refused to admit it to herself at the time.

Scott looks up at her, his eyes warm and his wet hair slicked back from her hands running through it, and the smile he gives her isn’t sinful like she’d expected, but soft and sweet, “I wanted you, Tess. I wanted you _so much_. I probably would have taken it further, because I couldn’t help myself, but you would have felt guilty and I wouldn’t have cared because, let’s face it, I can be a bit possessive and I probably would have felt like I was only taking back what was mine in the first place. I know you’re _not_ mine, you belong to yourself, and that’s totally a caveman thought, but it’s how I would have felt. And it would have only ended up hurting us more, maybe irreparably.”

“You’re probably right,” Tessa sighs, “But I still thought about it.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of thinking about me, apparently,” Scott smirks up at her, and just like that the mood shifts back to heated – charged with an electricity that’s almost potent in the air. Like if she touches him it will reverberate through her body and short circuit her brain on impact.

“Yes,” She nods, bending over to kiss his nose, “They do say the brain is the most powerful sexual organ, you know. But right now I want to do more than think. I’ll be right back.”

She steps out of the shower and pads across the room and into their bedroom, retrieving a condom from the nightstand.  

They had decided to continue using condoms after the slip up in the skate shop, just to be extra careful. They haven’t talked about it, the subject is still a little too raw, but she assumes he still wants kids, and she does too (if she can). Someday. Someday, but not yet.

She opens the condom before stepping back inside the glass, since trying to tear the foil with wet fingers would probably be impossible, and finds him slowly working himself to full staff with his hand.

“I wanted to do that,” She pouts, straddling his lap and covering his hand with her own.

“I thought you were all about going fast. You seemed pretty content to take control of your own needs this morning,” The corner of his mouth twitches upwards and she wants to kiss him, so she does. Running her tongue along the seam of his mouth until he opens for her and lets her stroke the roof of his mouth with her tongue.

“And _you_ wanted to go slow. Oh how the tables turn, eh?”

She reaches between them and rolls the condom on, pumping him a few more times for good measure and to torture him a little bit for starting without her, until his hands grip her ass and forcibly lift her up and over him and she has to put both her hands on his shoulders for balance.

“Ready?” Scott asks, tilting his chin up for a kiss that she happily obliges him with.              

“Yes,” She breathes against his lips, her voice turning into a deep moan as he pulls her down onto his length in one long motion.

He encourages her to lean back, supporting her with one of his arms so that he can suck on her nipples while she moves herself up and down his length – driving them both towards the precipice – and it’s almost mindnumbingly wonderful.

Pleasure radiates from her core upwards into her gut and down the insides of her thighs, encouraging her to move faster and harder, to chase that high that only Scott brings her and she’s almost there when- “Ow! Ow, ow, ow, hang on.”

Her leg cramps up in an impressive charlie horse that forces her to move off him so that she can stretch it out, rubbing vigorously at her calf and forcing it into submission.

“Are you okay, T?”

He looks kind of ridiculous, face full of concern, hair messy, skin covered in a mixture of steam and sweat, and his wet dick bobbing in the air, and Tessa laughs as the pain finally subsides, “I guess I’m not as young as I once was.”

“I have an idea,” Scott reaches for her, spinning her around so that she’s facing forward when she sinks back down onto him – making it so her legs aren’t squished together so tight and she can get better leverage using her feet on the floor instead of her knees on the hard tile, and his hand drops to circle her clit - coaxing a steady increase of whimpers out of her.

Tessa snakes her hand back into his hair and lets her head fall onto his shoulder – leaving the entire front of her body gloriously exposed for his hands – and Scott takes full advantage.

He has her back to where she was in mere seconds, working marks into her neck and shoulder while he watches his hands – one cupping her breast, the other working vigorously between her legs – and the knowledge that he’s watching himself pleasure her combined with the rhythmic pumping of his hips has her finally finding release. Pleasure bursting behind her eyelids as Scott thrusts a couple more times and finds his own release, groaning her name into her neck.

“Fuck, T, are you sure we have to have a party tonight? Because I’d much rather lock all the doors and do this all day.”

Laughing, Tessa turns her head to the side so that she can kiss him, sloppy and languid and perfect, “It would be rude to cancel now, but if we hurry we can get the house cleaned in time for one more round this afternoon.”

"That’s the best motivation for doing chores I’ve ever heard.”

 

\-------

 

“Where do you want me to put all this?” Alma asks, carrying in a large vegetable tray and followed closely behind by Joe whose arms are full of bags of chips.

“We told you not to bring anything, Mom,” Scott chastises lovingly, kissing his mother on the cheek.

“I know that, but I also know how much you and your brothers can eat and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“In the dining room, Alma. All of the food is set up on the table,” Tessa says, leading the way towards the back of the house where all the noise is. Danny and Charlie and their families had arrived moments before, along with a host of children, and Eric, and Chiddy, and Liz, and there had been non-stop shouting ever since.

“Is Kate here yet?”

“No, she had to pick Jordan up from the airport and then they were heading over. Kevin and Casey should be here any minute though,” Tessa explains, rearranging the chips around the trays of roast beef and roasted potatoes and vegetables that Scott had ordered under duress (he’d insisted that pizzas would be fine for the party, while Tessa had insisted they needed something fancier – in the end, she had won).

As if summoned, the doorbell rings and Tessa can hear Scott greeting her brothers and their families, followed by the pitter-patter of more little feet, and in a second Tessa finds her right leg completely enveloped by a smiling four year old shouting, “Auntie Tessa!”

“Hello, Poppy,” She kneels down, scooping the little girl up and pretending to wheeze with the effort, “When did you get so big? You’ve got to stop growing!”

“Nuh uh. Daddy says I need to grow big and strong. That’s why he makes me eat peas.”

Tessa laughs and Casey winks at her, patting his daughter on the head, “That’s right, honey. Auntie Tessa didn’t eat her peas when she was growing up and that’s why she’s shorter than Auntie Jojo and Grandma Kate.”

“Is that true?” Poppy grabs her cheeks, forcing Tessa to look her in the eye, and Tessa chuckles.

“Yep. Your dad is absolutely right.”

“Okay,” Poppy sighs with all the forbearance a four year old can muster, “I guess I’ll eat keep eating my peas then.”

Tessa catches Scott watching the interaction with a soft, almost wistful smile on his face, and when she cocks her head at him in silent question he ducks his head and looks away as if he’s been caught thinking something he shouldn’t.

_Curious_.

She wants to go over and ask him about it - they _did_ agree that communication is important – but the party is interrupted once again by the arrival of Kate and Jordan and Tessa is suddenly overwhelmed by her sister’s bear hug – making Poppy squeal and demand to be put down.

“Tessa McCormick as I live and breathe,” Jordan grins at her, pulling her in for a second hug as soon as Poppy has worked her way free and run into the other room to join the rest of the kids, “I hear you’re just the latest thing in women’s fashion.”

“Oh, stop,” Tessa hugs her just as tightly, so that they’re both swaying slightly in the kitchen, “It’s been too long, Jojo.”

“I know. I feel like I’ve missed everything!” Jordan finally steps away, but links her arm in Tessa’s to maintain their connection, “I leave the country and suddenly it’s engagement, Ilderton, Paris, wedding, no wedding, Mrs. Moir two-point-O before I can even get over the jet lag.”

“Yeah,” Tessa chuckles, “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.”

“And how are you, Scott,” Jordan asks cheerfully, saving him from standing in awkward silence next to Kate any longer, “It’s been a while.”

“I’m doing well, Jordan. It’s nice to see you again,” Scott replies, walking over to stand on Tessa’s other side and taking her hand in his.

“You too! I always did like you so much more than tall, bland, and handsome back in Montreal,” Jordan jokes, patting him lightly on the shoulder, and Scott’s hand clenches tighter around Tessa’s, “Thank God everything worked out the right way in the end, eh?”

“Yeah,” Tessa replies for the both of them, “It really did.”

“Oh, is Kate here now?” Alma comes walking back into the kitchen, little Cruz practically hanging onto her neck, “Excellent! Did you bring-“ She gives Kate a significant look, and Tessa watches curiously as her mother nods.

“It’s in the car.”

"Mine too,” Alma says, turning to face Tessa and Scott with a secretive smile, “We’ll be right back.”

Tessa turns to Jordan, poking her sister in the ribs – right where she knows she’s the most ticklish - and chuckling when Jordan snatches her hand and glares at her, “What are they up to?”

“I have no idea,” Jordan shrugs, dropping Tessa’s hand with a clear warning in her eyes not to try that again, and Tessa just grins and wiggles her fingers at her in a pretend threat.

“I really like how the place turned out, son,” Joe walks into the room from God knows where, apparently having given himself his own tour, “I noticed you did end up going with the 3/4 inch thick flooring, instead of 5/16. I think you’ll find they hold up better that way than if you’d gone with the thin-profile stuff the guy at the hardware store recommended.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Scott huffs out a laugh, “I’m sure you’re right.”

“And I noticed you put Grandpa Mac’s hand-carved coffee table in the front sitting room. It looks real nice in there.”

“You did?” Tessa looks up at Scott, raising her eyebrows in surprise, “I’d wondered where you got that. It looks so unique.”

“Yeah, it was one of the things I inherited,” Scott explains, lingering grief still in his eyes, and Tessa squeezes his shoulder. 

“Here we are!” Alma waltzes back in carrying a wrapped box with Kate hot on her heels holding another box that's very similar.

“Mom, you didn’t have to get us anything,” Scott protests as she hands him her box, practically shoving it into his arms.

"I know, I know,” Alma waves him off, “But Scott, as lovely as this house is, it’s severely lacking in one important area.”

She nods towards both of them, encouraging them to open the present, and Scott does the honors – revealing one of those large interconnected picture frames that holds six photos. In it she’d put print outs of pictures from over the years. One from their fifth anniversary when they’d gotten dressed up and gone to see _Into the Woods_ , a picture of Tessa and Eric with their arms thrown around Scott and Chiddy in their soccer uniforms after a game, a picture of Scott pretending to cheer atop a podium while she and Jordan pout on either side, a picture from the New Year’s Day that she and Scott had decided to start dating and were both covered in snow and practically glowing, and the picture Kate had taken on the day of their prom.

“Wow,” Tessa chokes out, tears pricking the back of her eyes and making her bury her face in Scott’s shoulder to stop them from falling.

“Thanks, Mom,” Scott manages to say for the both of them as he slowly runs his fingers across the photo from their fifth anniversary. Just two young kids then, with no idea what lay ahead of them, “This really means a lot to us.”

“Give them yours, Kate,” Alma pushes her friend forward and Kate hands her present over to Tessa – taking a moment to clasp her hand and kiss her on the cheek.

"I’m so happy for you, Tessa. For _both_ of you. Truly,” Her mom whispers, but it’s loud enough for Scott to hear, and Tessa can feel him relax a little bit at her side. It’s not enough to dispel years of tension, but it’s a start.  

"Thanks, Mom,” Tessa returns the kiss on the cheek and then opens the box, revealing a large single picture frame, slightly fancier than Alma’s, containing a beautiful print-out of the two of them during their first dance at their wedding reception. Tessa’s hand clasped tightly in Scott’s on his chest over his heart and her head tucked under his chin – both of them looking utterly radiant, despite all the nerves they’d felt that day.

Again, Scott is the first to speak, addressing Kate with a genuine smile, “Thank you, Kate. This really means a lot to us.”

“You’re welcome, Scott.”

“Can we eat yet? The game’s about to start!” Kevin marches into the room, disrupting the moment, and Tessa wipes her eyes and nods at him.

“Yeah, the food’s all ready. Dig in!”

                  

         

Once everyone has heaps of food piled on their plates and gathered in the living room – finding seats wherever they can, be it couch, chair, or the floor – Scott turns on the game.

He takes his seat in the corner of the couch, squeezing in next to Charlie who’s trying to convince Shea to eat something other than potato chips, and Tessa takes a moment to absorb the scene in front of her.

Who would have thought they’d ever get here. Both of their families stuffed into their new house, watching a hockey game and celebrating the simple (and yet sometimes still unbelievable) joy of being together.

“What are you doin’, T?” Scott asks with a laugh when he sees her standing alone eating her food, “Get over here.”

He beckons her with one hand, patting his leg in clear invitation, and Tessa grabs her plate and sits down gently on his knee – laughing when he tugs her in closer so that she’s sitting more solidly in his lap.

It’s the first hockey game she’s watched in a decade (intentionally, at least, she couldn’t always avoid it everywhere), and Tessa settles in, intending to have a good time and enjoy it.

The Toronto Maple Leafs are playing the Montreal Canadiens and it’s only the preseason, but you’d think it was a championship game with the way Scott is acting. He’s got Babcock all decked out in a dog-sized Leafs jersey (he’d definitely shredded the Habs one she’d bought to harass him with back in June) and is wearing a matching one of his own and spits insults at the refs anytime there’s a call in favor of the Habs.

“Scottie has a special sort of hatred for the Habs, don’t you, bro?” Danny teases around a mouthful of potatoes, shoving Scott’s shoulder and completely ignoring the glare Scott gives him or the worried glance he throws at Tess.

“Who can blame him? They’re shit,” Tessa replies, attempting to keep the peace. It’s not exactly surprising that Scott would have strong feelings towards the Habs – or really anything Montreal related. Although she does hope his feelings have softened somewhat now that he’s actually been there with her.

“Language!” Kate chastises her daughter from across the room, earning an impressive eye-roll from Tessa that she’s pretty sure was summoned from the sixteen year old version of herself that still exists in her mother’s presence.  

“They’re actually a pretty good team,” Casey states from where he’s sprawled out on the floor coloring princess pictures with Poppy and Scott’s niece, Quinn.

“I think this will be a tough one, that’s for sure,” Kevin agrees, his wife Michele is perched on his lap and they're sharing a rather messy crepe back and forth that the caterers had provided as dessert. Tessa tries not to watch in order to keep her anxiety from rising at the potential spill waiting to happen.

“Hey, be honest Tess, are you cheering for Montreal?” Charlie jabs her in the knee, looking up at her from the floor, and it takes everything in her not to kick him back.

“Of course not.”

“So you don’t have a Habs jersey hiding in your closet somewhere?” Charlie pushes, poking her again, and this time Tessa does tap him in the shoulder with her toes – earning a mischievous grin from her brother-in-law.

"Absolutely not. I’ve always been a Leafs fan, just like Scott.”

“And if they win tonight, you’re not going to go scurrying back to Montreal to celebrate?” Danny asks, clearly being goaded by Charlie, and Jordan swats him on the back of the head since Tessa’s too far away – earning a laugh from everyone but Scott.

“No, Danny, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me here in Ilderton,” Tessa chuckles, sagging a little further into Scott’s hold and kissing him on the top of his head.

"Good," Danny smiles softly at her and Charlie pats her leg and seconds his statement, and Tessa feels a rush of affection for the two men that have always been like brothers to her, (barring a momentary teenage crush, of course). 

"You do still have to go back tomorrow though, right?” Scott whispers in her ear, tightening his hold on her waist and pulling her in closer.

“Yeah,” Tessa sighs regretfully, running her fingers through his hair and forgetting the game completely, “But only for a few days to hash out the rest of the details with Marie, finalize the paperwork, and close out my workshop.”

“Then you’re home for good?”

She nods, tracing the edge of his ear with her index finger and smiling, “Then I’m home for good.”

“Tess, stop distracting Scott and pay attention to the game,” Chiddy complains, and Liz rolls her eyes next to him, "It's not the same if he's not shouting at the refs."

“They’re hopeless again, Chiddy, completely hopeless,” Eric says, jerking his head towards Scott and Tessa, and the two of them sigh and shake their heads, making everyone laugh.

“Just like old times,” Chiddy shakes his head at Eric, the both of them joining in with everyone else’s laughter, and Tessa grins down at Scott.

“Old times, but _better_.”

        

The Habs end up winning five to one heralded by a cacophony of groaning and grumbling and vague threats against their players involving bodily harm, but other than that the night goes incredibly well.

Everyone loves the house and takes the time to compliment Scott on his hard work, all of the food is eaten with no complaints about what they’d ordered, the little kids pass out and have to be carried to their respective car seats, and Kate and Scott had started to get along again – even managing to have a whole conversation at one point without any harsh words passing between them.

“What a perfect day,” Tessa whispers as she practically melts into the bed, relishing the feeling of freshly cleaned sheets beneath her skin, “I wish I didn’t have to get up so early.”

“It was perfect,” Scott agrees, turning out the lights and scooting in next to her – curling an arm around her waist and pulling her in close with a satisfied hum, “You could stay here and miss your flight instead.”

A mournful little sigh escapes her lips and she snuggles deeper into his arms, “I can’t. The sooner I get this over with the sooner I can come home.”

“I know,” Scott mumbles into the crook of her neck, already falling asleep. Tessa knows he’s exhausted, probably more than she is since he was up earlier, and she presses a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Goodnight, Scott.”

“G’night. Wake me up,” His voice slurs and he’s gone – his breathing deep and steady against her side, and Tessa kisses his cheek again before drifting off to the gentle rhythm.

 

 

Her alarm goes off too early. Painfully early. And instead of waking up Scott and depriving him of much needed rest, she slips out of bed and dresses quickly and quietly, ordering an Uber through the app on her phone and scribbling out a note: "Didn’t want to wake you up. Called an Uber for the airport. See you in a couple days! Love you! Tessa.”

She props the note up on the lamp by his head where he’ll hopefully see it first thing when he wakes, then drops the softest of kisses on his forehead.

_Three days. Three days in Montreal and then I’m home again._  

 

 

She’s standing at the curb waiting for Kaitlyn to pick her up when her phone starts pinging with missed notifications – including a call and voicemail from Scott.

Tessa smiles and presses play, lifting the phone to her ear and expecting a happy good morning message.

“Hey, T, uh… it’s me. You can’t leave notes like that, okay? Um, I’d rather you wake me up. No matter what time it is. Could you call me when you get this please?”

He sounds almost distraught – like he’s on the verge of a panic attack – and Tessa feels mortified as she realizes what she’d done.

She hadn’t thought anything of the note, but she should have. Should have realized it could only have negative connotations for Scott, considering their history. That waking up alone to an empty house with only a note from her would have triggered the worst memory he has. 

She dials his number right away, and he answers after the second ring.

“Oh my god, Scott, I am so sorry. I didn’t think. I didn’t want to wake you up so I thought slipping out and taking an Uber would be smarter than asking you to drive. It never occurred to me what you would think when you found the note. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” She starts speaking right away, not giving him a chance to talk, and Scott sighs heavily through the phone.

“It’s fine, kiddo. I understand. Just… for future reference, please wake me up.”

“I will. I swear I will. I’ll never go anywhere without letting you know first, I promise,” The words tumble out of her as she rushes to reassure him, but Scott chuckle dryly and stops her.

“That might be a bit extreme, kiddo. Maybe only when you’re leaving town.”

“I can definitely do that," Tessa nods vigorously, despite knowing that he can't see her, "I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, but,” He hesitates and Tessa gulps nervously.

_He’s mad. He’s mad and he’s hurt and I’ve fucked everything up._

“Tess, I think we should go to therapy,” He says the words tentatively, like he's afraid she's going to be offended or upset by the suggestion, but all she can think is,  _he's not breaking up with me_ ,  _thank god_. 

“Therapy like a marriage counselor or therapy like individually seeing someone?”

“A marriage counselor. Together. You’ve always been pretty observant, I’m sure it’s obvious by now that I’ve still got some lingering… trust issues, and I think going to counseling would help. I also think we need to work on our communication more. I know we've talked about a few things, but I think mostly we both try to avoid it, and that’s no way to start fresh," He hesitates again, voice going a little quieter, "I had… I had a panic attack this morning, T. And I know it’s ridiculous and totally an overreaction and I know you’re coming back Wednesday night and everything is fine, but I couldn’t stop it and-“

“Scott,” She cuts him off, “Please don’t apologize for telling me how you feel. Ever. I always want to know how you're feeling and what you're thinking. It’s not ridiculous at all, and I agree with you. I think therapy would be a good idea.”

Looking back over the past month, at how hard she’s been working to keep things light and airy – so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. And thinking about Scott’s behavior – his obvious insecurities that he tries so hard to hide from her. He’s absolutely right. They can’t keep all the hard things bottled up and repressed and expect themselves not to end up in the same place they did in 2007. It’s not healthy.

"Are you sure, Tess?" He sounds relieved, and she smiles. 

"Yes. Let’s do it. When I get back to Ilderton, let’s find a therapist.”

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was edited at 3 a.m. because I'm not me without my bad habits. Any mistakes are, sadly, mine. Zzzzzzz


	4. October - December, 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Scott go to therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has given me a lot of trouble, mostly because I have not actually been to couple's therapy so I had to do a fair bit of research. In the end I decided to just show snippets of their sessions, rather than try to dive in full-throttle. Especially since a lot of their conversations would have dealt with their past (obviously) and we've all lived through that first-hand. 
> 
> Hopefully you feel what I've ended up with here does them justice. <3

** we can work it out **

****

**_October 9, 2018_ **

**_Oakridge Counselling, London, Ontario_ **

****

Scott had expected therapy to be a breeze, considering the fact that it was his idea to go in the first place. He’d walked into their first session the previous week with his head held high and his hand in Tessa’s and all the good intentions in the world only to leave with the realization that their mole hill was quite literally a mountain and that they were going to have to climb it before they could move forward together. It had completely burst the comfortable bubble he and Tessa had been living in for the past month.

Now, walking into the nondescript office on a Tuesday afternoon for their second session, Scott's hand hangs heavy in Tessa's and his stomach is churning.

“Are you feeling okay?” Tessa stops him in front of the waiting room with a gentle hand on his chest, her eyes searching his for signs of discomfort.

“Yeah, I guess so,” He nods and leans in for a quick peck on the lips that Tessa willingly returns, "No matter what, we're together, eh?" 

"Mmhmm," Tessa nods, kissing him again, "And no matter what, I love you."   

Hearing her say that, their little mantra they'd come up with the week before, helps to somewhat sooth his nausea, but the truth is, he’s not feeling okay at all. It’s one thing to know you have issues and to want to resolve them in the abstract, it’s another thing entirely to realize that you’re going to actually have to say them out loud and face them head on.

“Hello. It’s nice to see you both again,” Dr. Lacey greets them with a dimpled smile after her assistant calls their names and takes them back to her office, gesturing for them to take a seat across from her faded fuchsia armchair on the overly stuffed beige floral sofa. Her office reminds him of old _Murder She Wrote_ reruns he used to watch on sick days off from school when he was a kid, and the woman herself isn't entirely dissimilar to the character, either.

Their therapist, who Tessa had booked after doing a thorough vetting process online, looks more like someone’s granny than she does a savior. That’s what she’d been called on all of the review boards though. Multiple times. "Elizabeth Lacey saved my marriage," seemed to be a common theme through everyone’s comments and Scott just hopes whatever miracles she has worked in the past will roll over onto him and Tess.

Well, mostly him. He’s pretty sure Tessa has everything figured out inside that head of hers. She’s been so much more level-headed and consistent since her return than he has. Probably worked through all of her issues on her own years ago through logical, step-by-step thought processes, journals, and self-help books. Even now she’s already pulled out a plain black spiral bound notebook and a pen and looks poised and ready for a lecture, whereas Scott can’t seem to stop wiping his sweaty hands off on his jeans.

He had thought he’d developed a pretty good handle on things too, or at least was getting there, but then he’d had that panic attack after finding the note from Tessa a couple of weeks ago (before he could even read the damn thing and reassure his stupid brain that it wasn’t fucking New Year’s day 2008 again and there was no reason for it to freak out) and that had been a stern wake-up call that maybe his issues weren’t as buried as he’d hoped.

"It’s nice to see you too, Doctor,” Tessa replies with her best professional smile. She’d worn a striped pencil skirt today with a stylish black top and her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail and if Scott didn’t know better he’d say she was heading off to practice law or do a TV interview or something else equally important and intimidating, rather than do an hour of therapy.

He, on the other hand, had gone for more of a comfortable look, despite Tessa’s protestations that it wasn’t respectful - his favorite pair of jeans that are probably way too old for him to still respectably wear and a Tragically Hip t-shirt that he thinks may have been Charlie’s at one point. Tessa had harassed him about the choice of shirt before they left the house, but he’d won her over by taking her face in his hands and whispering, “The Hip got some things right. You were worth the wait.”   

(She might accuse him of being cheesy or a sap, but he knows she loves it).

“Now, Tessa, didn’t I ask you last week to call me Elizabeth?” Their therapist smiles again, straightening her tailored grey tweed jacket before handing them one of those blue Danish cookie tins that’s Scott only ever seen containing sewing supplies before. To his surprise, when she pops the lid off there actually are shortbread cookies inside instead of needles and thread. “Cookie?”

“Thank you,” Tessa takes one, probably more to be polite than because she actually wants one right now, and so Scott follows her example and does the same.

“How has this last week been for the both of you? Tessa, you mentioned that you were in the process of moving your business here from Montreal, how has that transition been going?” Dr. Lacey settles in, grabbing her own notepad from her desk behind her, and Scott feels incredibly under-prepared next to the two of them.

“It’s going great! A lot smoother than I would have predicted. Scott helped me turn one of the spare rooms into a little office with a big desk that has plenty of space for me to design on. And my old team seems to be transitioning flawlessly into Marie’s, that’s my mentor slash boss now, company. I couldn’t be happier,” Tessa beams at their therapist, nothing but satisfaction in her voice, and Scott starts to relax into the overly stuffed couch cushions.

“That’s wonderful! And Scott, how has work been at the rink and the shop?”

"It’s been busy. Competitions are in full swing now so we’ve been sharpening a lot of skates and the rink is pretty much booked full time when it’s not being used for public skating. The kids are really doing well this year. I’m really proud of them,” He tacks on, smiling softly at the memory of one of the students – who had struggled all last year with learning to jump – managing to land a jump in their first class this fall.

“Excellent. I’m so happy to hear that your professional lives are thriving. Now how about the personal ones? How has it been for Tessa to be back permanently?”

“It’s fantastic!” Scott tells Dr. Lacey without hesitation, taking Tessa’s hand in his and turning to smile at her, “I love having her home, where she belongs.”

Tessa tenderly smiles back at him, her thumb caressing his knuckles, and they both almost miss Dr. Lacey’s next question.

“There’s no awkwardness we should discuss? No little fights about, oh, how the furniture is arranged or where things should go in the kitchen?” She chuckles, “Moving in together is a big step for any couple, it would be natural for there to be some bumps.”

“Nope,” Scott tells her with an exaggerated pop on the P, then glances at Tessa with a little frown, “Actually, I don’t know, is there any furniture you want me to move? Because I will, just say the word.”

Tessa laughs and grips his hand a little tighter where they’re still entwined in her lap, “No, I love everything just how it is. But it’s always been easy to live with Scott. Even the first time, we sort of fell into a routine pretty quickly.”

“Terrific,” Dr. Lacey smiles at both of them and pats their knees and Scott distinctly feels like his ten years old again at his Grandma’s house answering questions about how school is going and getting congratulated for his math scores.

“Today I’d like you to tell me about your past together. As Cara Black once wrote, ‘The past informs the present. Memory makes the map we carry, no matter how hard we try to erase it.’ So let’s start at the very beginning. Why don’t you tell me how you met?”

Tessa looks at him, silently asking if she should take the lead, and he nods.

“Well, it all started with a game of Red Rover and a broken arm.”

 

* * *

 

**_October 30, 2018_ **

 

“We’ve discussed the timeline of events up to and including Tessa leaving for Montreal and I feel like I have a pretty good understanding of the facts now. It’s certainly a lot of history to cover! Most couples your age don’t have quite so much story to tell,” She chuckles, handing over the tin of cookies as has become their routine (he's learned that she makes the cookies herself and refills the tin each week with new flavors. This time it's gingerbread), “So today I’d like to start digging into the _why_ a little bit more. What were you feeling towards the end of 2007. Can you start there, Tessa?”

Something tightens inside Scott's chest, a voice of warning in his ear, but he tries to ignore it. He doesn't want to discuss 2007 (preferably ever), but he knows they have to so he shuts up the part of his brain that's starting to flash red sirens. 

“Um, sure,” Tessa starts out nervously, and Scott places his hand on her shoulder for support, “Well, you know I miscarried and that things got a little rough between us, and I know now that I was pretty depressed and shouldering a lot of the blame, but I guess eventually it just seemed like neither of us was very happy and I couldn’t handle that. Scott had started school again and he was making new friends and having all these new experiences that I couldn’t share. I loved, still love, Scott too much to ever want to see him unhappy and I knew I was holding him back from living his best life, so I decided the best thing for him would be if I left.”

“That kind of backfired though, didn’t it?” Scott cuts in, trying not to sound bitter, but definitely failing, “Sort of had the opposite effect there on my level of  happiness. You just made the decision and took off with no consideration for how that would _really_ make me feel. You just assumed.”

"I had to,” Tessa states and Scott opens his mouth to argue with her. He knew they would have to discuss this eventually and he’d sworn he would keep it civil and let Tessa speak her mind, but the reality is that it’s hard to sit and listen to her defend her choices when they were so _wrong_.  

“Now, Scott,” Dr. Lacey cuts in before he can get his next words out, “We’re talking about how Tessa felt first. Please be respectful and try to listen without thinking about what you want to say next. You will get your turn.”

“Active listening,” Tessa supplies under her breath, like she just can’t help herself, and Scott resists the urge to roll his eyes. She was the top student for a reason, and part of that meant she was always the first one with an answer.

Instead he slumps back down in the couch and folds his arms over his chest. He can sense Tessa’s eyes staring at the side of his head, but he refuses to look at her. If he does he knows he won’t be able to stay angry, and he needs that anger because otherwise he won’t be able to be honest about the feelings he’s been bottling up for over a decade.

“Yes, active listening, good job, Tessa,” Dr. Lacey pats Tessa’s knee and Scott huffs out his next exhale with audible force, “Why did you feel like it was okay to make that choice for him?”

Tessa looks at him again, he knows she does, but when he doesn’t give her what she wants she squares her shoulders and turns back to the therapist and states confidently, “Because I knew he wasn’t happy and that he’d never be the one to do what was necessary to fix the problem. He’s way too loyal, so I had to.”

“The problem being you?” Dr. Lacey clarifies, scribbling something on her notepad.  

“Yes,” Tessa nods and Scott can’t contain it any longer. The sirens in his head flashing and wailing at top volume.

 _How can she sit there and say those things? As if she was a dead weight around my neck, not the love of my life!?_ Scott sits up straight, matching Tessa’s posture, and spits out, “That’s crap.”

“Excuse me?” Tessa turns to face him, affronted.

“I’m sorry, but it is. I loved you, Tess. I loved you when we were kids and as teenagers and all through my twenties when I hated you, and I love you even more now. And you _knew_ that. I’ve never kept it a secret. It’s not fair for you to act like I was carrying you around like some sort of _obligation_ or nuisance when I wasn’t! I never once felt that way!” The words explode out of him with a fury, and the burn from finally saying them feels equally painful and cathartic.

“I know that _now_!” Tessa argues back, twisting around to face him fully – her knee bumping against his as she props it up on the couch, “I didn’t know that then. I couldn’t know that.”

“I know I wasn’t always great at showing it after we lost the baby, but-“ Scott starts, leaning in closer. Both of them forgetting to pay attention to the therapist sitting across from them – who doesn’t look nearly surprised enough to see them arguing right now.

“No, Scott,” Tessa throws her hand over his mouth to shut him up and Scott has to resist the urge to lick it like he would if they were children, “I mean I _couldn’t_. I was too depressed. I thought that everything was all my fault and that I was a monster – how could you love me? I couldn’t even love myself.”

Tessa’s hand falls back into her lap as her shoulders slump inwards, her eyes dropping to the floor, and Scott can feel his anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. The sight of Tessa in distress instantly triggering his need to protect and comfort her.

“Oh, Tess. Come here,” He tugs her in for a tight hug, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping both arms around her shoulders, “I’m sorry.”

“Do you still feel like losing the baby was your fault, Tessa?” Dr. Lacey asks, quietly handing Tessa a tissue from off her desk without commenting on the tears that had managed to break free. Something Scott knows Tessa will be grateful for. She’s always hated crying in front of people.  

"I think… I think part of me will always feel like there’s more that I could have done, but I also accept that I was a teenager and in over my head. It wasn’t intentional and it wasn’t karma or the universe punishing me for not wanting the baby,” Tessa says almost as if she’s reciting something from a textbook and sits back up – facing Dr. Lacey and pulling away from Scott’s arms, trying to appear calm and unaffected again.

“That’s is really wonderful to hear. It sounds like you know this already, but you deserve to hear it: nothing that happened that spring was your fault, Tessa, it wasn’t bad karma, it was just a tragedy.”

“I’m sorry, Tess. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see how depressed you were,” Scott says as soon as Dr. Lacey stops talking. If he’d known maybe they could have seen a therapist a hell of a lot sooner. He was a naïve idiot back then.

“That’s okay,” Tessa dismisses him with a wave of her hand before shoving half of a gingerbread cookie in her mouth. Probably to stop herself from saying anything else. 

“Tessa,” Dr. Lacey says gently, “Try not to be so dismissive of your feelings. You don’t have to say something is okay if it isn’t. Also, it’s important to acknowledge an apology when it’s offered, instead of waving it off.”

"It isn’t okay, Tess,” Scott says, reinforcing their therapist with a nod. He may hate having to carve himself open in this office week after week, but he knows they won’t get anywhere if they continue their strategy of glossing over their issues and pain.

“Yes, it is,” Tessa states, stubborn as ever, “Even I didn’t know I was depressed, how could you? It’s fine, Scott, I forgive you.”

“That’s good, both of you,” Dr. Lacey finishes the note she’d been writing, “But it’s important to state clearly what you are sorry for and what you are forgiving for. We’re here to fix your communication problems, which means learning to be open and straightforward and honest about everything. Try to use _I_ statements when talking about your feelings, instead of the more accusatory _you_.”

Scott nods and turns back to face Tessa, reaching for her hand and speaking to her sincerely, “Tess, _I_ was wrong not to question your behavior, and _I_ feel very sorry about that.”

“And _I_ forgive you,” Tessa squeezes his fingers, but her eyes skitter away from his after only a second, and something tells him they aren’t done talking about this particular topic.

 

* * *

 

**_November 6, 2018_ **

****

“Alright, last time we discussed Tessa’s point of view on the events of 2007, now let’s discuss Scott’s. Scott,” Dr. Lacey turns towards him. She’s wearing a sweater embroidered with turkeys and pumpkins today that on anyone else would be over-the-top and ridiculous, but she somehow makes work. She wouldn’t look out of place entering a pie or jam recipe contest at the Ilderton Fair. “What were you feeling in the months after the miscarriage?”

Six weeks into these sessions, Scott’s finally starting to feel pretty comfortable. More so than Tess, who still insists on dressing like they’re going to a job interview. He knew it would be his turn this week, so he throws his arm over the back of the couch and starts talking while Tessa settles into her “active listening “ mode (her eyes trained on him, head cocked slightly to the side, and her lips pursed together).

“At first I was pretty devastated. I mean, I knew on some level that Tessa wasn’t exactly thrilled about being pregnant, but even though I was scared shitless I still thought it would be an adventure. To me, Tess and I were a team no matter what. We could face anything together. So losing the baby, and by extension Tessa as she retreated into herself, was a pretty big blow. I guess I was equal parts devastated and confused about where we were supposed to go from there, but after a few weeks I made my peace with it – losing the baby, I mean. Miscarriages happen. It sucked that it happened to us, but I accepted it,” Scott fiddles with the threads in the couch and glances over at Tessa before swallowing and continuing on.

“But then Tessa didn’t get better and I… I know I wasn’t as supportive as I could have been, and maybe I did get a little distracted by going back to university and stuff, but I assumed that eventually she’d be joining me in that world. She was supposed to start school at Western in January. So I was feeling better and more optimistic about the future. Eventually we,” He pauses, looking at Tessa again and waiting for her permission before soldiering on, “We became intimate again and it was probably naïve of me, but I assumed that meant she was finally getting better too. And then on that last day we had a _really_ great morning and I kissed her goodbye and then wham, she said she would see me at midnight, but instead she disappeared. So then I felt a mixture of shock, hurt, anger, and like my whole world had imploded overnight.”

“I actually decided to stay,” Tessa whispers, so quietly he’s almost not sure that he heard her correctly.

“What? When?”

Suddenly, as Scott waits for her explanation, he can’t breathe. It’s as if her quiet revelation sucked all of the air out of his lungs and left him gasping.

 _She was going to stay!?_  

“I decided that when you came home from the bar after hanging out with Eric and Chiddy I would confess everything about how I’d been feeling and I would stay. I knew if I saw you again I wouldn’t be able to leave, and you were supposed to come back home.”

Scott’s pretty sure this is what it feels like to have a broken heart shatter again. _So close_. They’d been so fucking close to a different outcome. To a completely different life path. And he’d fucked it all up even more than he’d thought, “But then I didn’t come home, so you decided to leave.”

“Sort of, yes. I took it as a sign that Montreal was the right choice,” Tessa ducks her head, spinning her wedding band around her finger so vigorously he’s certain she must be rubbing the skin underneath raw.  

"Is that something that you’re still afraid of, Scott?” Dr. Lacey asks quietly when it seems like Scott has nothing to say. And really, what could he possibly say other than _fuck your stupid superstitions and fuck me for getting drunk that night and forgetting my promise_. “-That Tessa might make a choice like that again?”

“I… I think that’s part of it, yeah,” Scott admits, “I guess I’ve been worried that if I mess up again, she’ll decide for both of us that it’s over and head back to Montreal. And, apparently, I’m not wrong to think that. All it took the first time was coming home late for her to see it as some big cosmic sign that we weren’t meant to be.”

Dr. Lacey hums and turns to Tess, gently prodding her, “Tessa?”

“I understand why you’re worried about that,” Tessa starts out slowly, “I know what I did wasn’t fair. But I didn’t really leave because you messed up, Scott. That was just a last minute excuse to go through with it. I was acting out of fear and loneliness and self-preservation, because I was afraid that you were pulling away and it was breaking my heart, and I convinced myself that I was doing it because of you. For you. It was easier to think of it that way. That’s how I justified it. But it wasn’t meant to _punish_ you, and I was wrong. So, so wrong.”

“Apparently you were punishing me though, because I didn’t come home and your thought was, ‘See? He’s not here so I’m going to take off,’” Scott points out, his voice rising to match hers. 

“Don’t say it so cavalierly! It wasn’t like that at all and I had spent _months_ thinking about it. It wasn’t one mistake, Scott, it was over half a year of feeling like you-“ Tessa cuts herself off short, practically zipping her lips shut tight as she spins away from him.

“Tessa,” Dr. Lacey asks, “How did you really feel back then about Scott’s behavior towards you after the miscarriage? Last week you said you’d forgiven him.”

“I know he was trying his best to give me what he thought I needed,” Tessa hedges, still refusing to look at him, and Scott can feel the waves of anger rolling off of her.

“No, how did you feel _then_ ,” Dr. Lacey pushes, waiting until Tessa finally sighs and starts to talk.

“Angry, I guess, and hurt.”

“Abandoned?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he left me alone when I needed him most!” The words burst out of her, unfiltered, and Scott flinches. It's rare for Tessa to yell. “Because he had been my best friend for ten and a half years and when that bond was tested he didn’t try to fix it, he just let it break! He let _me_ break!”

“I already told you-“ Scott tries to cut in, to explain or defend himself, but she plows over him.

“I _know_ you didn’t do it on purpose. I know,” Tessa pinches her nose, taking a second to calm down with a few steadying breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, “But that’s still what it felt like. I already thought I was a monster who was going to hell for willing my child away, so of course it made sense that you didn’t want me anymore, and you didn’t do anything to convince me otherwise. You would hardly even touch me for the first couple of months.”

“Tess,” Scott chokes around the lump in his throat, his eyes burning, “I am so sorry. I hate myself for making you feel that way. I was an idiot, and there’s no excuse for it. When we went home from the hospital I thought we were in it together, but then… I’d never seen you cry like that. Never seen you so… fragile. I didn’t know what to do and so I asked for advice and followed that instead of my own instinct and I didn’t talk to you about any of it. I-“ He pauses, and it’s as if a lightbulb goes off above his head that he’d been missing for years, making him realize something that probably should have been obvious from day one, “I took your choice away."

“What?” Tessa looks up at him, confusion written all over her red, tear-streaked face. He wants desperately to pull her into his arms and wipe the tears away, but he's not sure that would be welcome right now.

“Do you want to expound on that, Scott?” Dr. Lacey sits back in her chair with an approving smile, and Scott knows he’s on the right track.

“I made an assumption about what T was feeling and what would be best for her and acted accordingly. I’m guilty of the same thing I’ve been accusing her of doing.”

“So you both made choices for each other,” Dr. Lacey clarifies, “Motivated by love and rooted in good intentions, but without discussing them first?”

"Yeah, I guess we did,” Scott nods.

Next to him, Tessa’s gone eerily silent as she mulls over this new revelation, and Scott ignores the part of him that wants to retreat into himself and instead places his hand on her knee, “Tess, I spent so many years blaming you for doing something I had done first. I am so sorry.”

Tessa’s eyes drop to where his hand is resting and it takes a moment, but eventually she covers it with her own, “You didn’t know, Scott. You were trying. I know that now.”

“You didn’t know either, Tess. Neither of us really knew anything. It’s like we both were trying to fix the problem with only half the tools.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Lacey cuts in, looking excited and proud of both of them, “It’s obvious that you both love each other very much. So much that you fear hurting each other more than you do hurting yourselves, and that is where the line of communication breaks down. You have to trust that the other person isn’t going to break if they help carry the burdens. You also have to mean it when you say you forgive each other – none of this secretly holding onto the grudge and waiting for the right moment to bring it back out again.” She looks at them sharply before she pulls out a book from her bookcase and flips it open to a pre-marked page and reads, “The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.”

“So no saying we forgive each other until we’re ready to completely let go of the issue?” Tessa asks, and Dr. Lacey smiles and nods encouragingly.

“Yes. It doesn’t mean you forget and it doesn’t mean you don’t learn from your mistakes, it just means that you don’t allow yourself or your relationship to be weighed down by it anymore,” She smiles and pats both of their knees again before reaching for her notebook and continuing on.

"Relationships are about give and take. You’re constantly weighing the costs and effects of your decisions and actions, even without consciously realizing it. The both of you have a tendency to weigh the cost of being honest against the feared effect it will have on the other person. We all do it, but in your case this has been problematic.”

“So what do we do about it?” Scott asks, gripping Tessa’s hand a little tighter, “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“Is the cost of working to fix the problem and make this relationship work worth it to you?”

“Yes,” Tessa replies instantly, almost before Dr. Lacey has even finished asking the question.  

“Without a doubt,” Scott adds, scooting in a little closer to Tessa's side and pulling her hand up to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of it. He’ll do whatever it takes if it means securing a future with her.  

Dr. Lacey grins at both of them, “Then that’s already half the battle. The rest is learning how to retrain your brains so that your first instinct when faced with conflict isn’t negative, and we do that through cognitive behavioral therapy.”

Tessa makes a little sound of recognition and scribbles away at her notebook while Scott just looks back and forth between them with a furrowed brow, “What’s that?”

“Have you ever overreacted?” Dr. Lacey asks with a knowing smile, “Or done something that you looked back on and thought, ‘Wow. That could have gone better?’ CBT takes such situations and uses the thoughts, emotions, and behavior of your reaction to turn them into examples of how to think and act for the next time. It’s broken down into three categories: one, thoughts. Your thoughts about a situation are important when it comes to modifying behavior. Two, emotions. Your emotions are typically triggered by your thoughts. We cannot always change the situations we’re in, but we can change our thoughts, which in turn affects our emotions. And three, behavior. This is the thing that we’re trying to modify. If we can modify the thoughts to be less negative, that will make our emotions feel less intense and negative,” She reaches for a stack of papers, “I have a worksheet I want you to do with me now.”

Scott resists the urge to laugh as he accepts the paper from her. She always seems to have worksheets. In fact, he’s pretty certain he hasn’t done this much writing and answering questions since he was at university.

“Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is also commonly used to treat PTSD,” Dr. Lacey looks at him again and Scott does chuckle then, his cheeks turning a little pink.  

“So probably especially helpful for me then, eh?”

There’s no point trying to deny that he’s been more fucked up than T by the past decade. She’s their therapist, so she knows all about _all_ of his issues by now.

“Helpful for _both_ of you, but yes, Scott, this will help prevent further panic attacks. Now let’s start with question one…”   

 

\------- 

 

They leave Dr. Lacey’s office with their hands swinging between them, enjoying a comfortable silence, but Scott can tell that Tessa’s much more pensive than usual (which is saying a lot, since she always gets reflective after a session).

“Apollo?” He asks, tugging on her hand so that she stumbles a little on the sidewalk and he can pull her into a hug.

"Mmhmm. Sounds delicious,” Tessa nods, burying her face in his chest for a moment and breathing him in while he does the same - kissing the top of her head where it's glowing from the autumn sunshine.

They’ve developed a routine after their therapy sessions now. First, they always reconnect with a hug afterwards, no matter what, and second, they get burgers and milkshakes at the Apollo – an old ‘50s diner across the street.

"Let's go then." 

 

“Go find a seat, I’ll get our order," Scott says as soon as they're inside, and fifteen minutes later he sits down across from her, sliding her chocolate milkshake across the sticky linoleum table with a smile, “Your usual, m’lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Tessa plays along, reaching for her spoon (no straws, Scott, they kill turtles!) and digging in.

Scott focuses mostly on his burger, with the occasional scoop from his vanilla shake mixed in, while the old jukebox in the corner croons out a song that he’s certain Tessa’s heard before, judging by the way her head move subconsciously along to the beat. 

“Scott?” Tessa starts after she’s eaten half of her shake, and he knows she’s going to want an order of fries now. She always says she doesn’t when they come in here after a session, insists that the burger will be enough to satisfy her, but halfway through she wants them to dip in her shake.

"Yeah, T? Regular or Large?” Scott’s hand is already reaching for his wallet as he slides down the seat to head back to the counter when she surprises him.

“I really do forgive you, you know, for not being there the way I needed in 2007. I’m sorry I brought it up again today after saying I forgave you last week. Dr. Lacey is right – if I’m going to say it then I need to mean it.”

Tessa moves her hand across the table, palm up, and Scott reaches out and takes it, “Thank you for saying that. I’m sorry, too. And…” He gulps, shredding apart one of the brown napkins with free hand, “I forgive you for leaving.”

“You do?” Tessa sits back, shock written all over her face, “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. I’ll understand if you’re still hurt and angry with me. You don’t need to forgive me if you aren’t ready.”

"I am ready,” He states a little more confidently, and as he says the words he finds that it’s true. He’s ready to let go. “I forgive you for leaving eleven years ago. I understand now why it happened. We were both to blame. I’m sorry for my part in it, and I forgive you for yours.”

“Thank you,” Tessa's eyes are glistening and she lets out a quiet little sob of relief and Scott quickly slides out of his side of the booth and joins her on hers, pulling her into a tight, two-armed side-hug.  

“I love you, Tess, and no matter what happened in our past nothing could ever change that. It’s you and me, T, forever.”

“Written in the stars?” She looks up at him through wet eyelashes, and Scott brings his hand up to caress her cheek and wipe away her tears like he'd wanted to do earlier.

“By Virtue, not otherwise,” Scott nods, reciting his family’s motto (he’d made that discovery by accident a year ago, and while it had felt then like the words were being carved into his skin with a soldering iron, he knows the truth of them now like a brand over his heart) before tilting his chin down to capture Tessa’s mouth in a sweet kiss.  

 

* * *

 

**_December 4, 2018_ **

****

"Let’s talk about Tessa’s return this summer,” Dr. Lacey begins on a wintery Tuesday. Outside the snow is falling in big, fat snowflakes, and Scott can’t help how bouncy his knee gets every time he thinks about the drive home that they’re going to have to make, setting him on edge, “You were engaged?”

(He'd rather blame the weather for his nerves that the topic). 

"I was,” Tessa nods. She’s finally dressed more comfortably, now that they’ve been coming to these sessions so regularly, and Scott can’t help but laugh a little on the inside at their matching red and black plaid shirts and jeans.

It’s easier to focus on their accidental coordination than to reopen a wound that’s still so fresh, even six months later. Finding out about her engagement had just about killed him and he’d really rather not sit and listen about how she’d been able to love another man, even if it had been a relatively brief relationship.

“It was kind of an accident though,” She chuckles dryly and Scott sits up a little straighter. They haven’t discussed her fiancé at all, and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s curious. Like pushing at a bruise to watch it change color. _Morbid_ curiosity.

“How do you mean?” Dr. Lacey asks, handing Scott the cookie tin and grinning when he takes three.

 _I’ll need the extra sugar for this_ , he thinks with a grimace – wishing for something a little stronger and a little more liquid. He _really, really_ doesn’t need to hear about how they fell in love.

“I mean… he was just kind of _there_. He was interesting and kind and attentive, but I really only meant to casually date him as an experiment to find out if I even _could_ date at all. My first two attempts after Scott had kind of ended in disaster. I never meant to become serious with him, but one date led to another and eventually it was just easier to let it happen. Harry was safe, stable, and reliable. I could have done a lot worse, but I never expected him to propose.”

“Did you love him?” Dr. Lacey asks kindly, and Tessa shakes her head softly without any hesitation. 

“No. I tried, but I couldn’t. I’ve never loved anyone but Scott.”

He _has_ to kiss her for that, even though it’s probably a serious breech in therapy etiquette, and he grins against Tessa’s lips when she laughs in surprise.

Dr. Lacey clears her throat and when he pulls away he finds her frowning at him, although her eyes are twinkling with merriment, so he figures he isn't in too much trouble. “So then what happened after he proposed?”

“Well I had to come back to get Scott to sign the divorce papers. He’d been returning them for years and as far as I know it’s still illegal to be married to two people at once,” Tessa jokes.

“She wasn’t getting the message,” Scott explains with a cocky smirk.  

“I’m not sure why the _jello_ was necessary to convey your message. Or that time you sent them back covered in glittery Disney princess stickers,” Tessa shakes her head affectionately and jabs him in between the ribs with a laugh.

“I borrowed those from my niece,” Scott says proudly, “And don’t forget the origami, or the time I ran them over with my car. I was pretty satisfied with those tire marks – got them right down the middle of the page.”

“I’m sensing some passive-aggression that we’re definitely going to discuss eventually,” Dr. Lacey interrupts them, eyeing Scott seriously, but he just grins at her. He’s proud of all the creative ways he sent the papers back, and eventually his plan had worked, so no harm done.

“Again, I was making a point.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Tessa rolls her eyes with an overly exaggerated sigh, “Clearly I needed him to sign them before Harry found out, so I came home.”

“Now that’s interesting. You say before Harry found out. You didn’t tell him you’d been married before?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because… well at the time it was because I didn’t want to dig up old hurts, but… looking back on it I think it’s because Harry existed in a separate world from Scott and I didn’t want the two overlapping. I didn’t want Harry to be part of Ilderton – he existed only in Montreal.”

“And why do you think it was so important that you keep them separate?”

“Because Ilderton mattered more,” Tessa states quietly, “Ilderton, and by that I mean Scott and all that goes along with him, was _real_ and Montreal was fake. Harry couldn’t cross over, because then it made him more real.”

“And cheapened what you had with Scott?” Dr. Lacey clarifies, and Tessa nods, humming in agreement. 

“Yes, I think so.”

“How was it seeing Tessa for the first time in so long, Scott?”

“Jarring," Scott states with a low chuckle, "I didn’t recognize her at first, which I’m kind of ashamed to admit because I used to think I’d know T anywhere. But she was so poised and chic and polished and her hair was darker and-“

“And I’d changed my noise,” Tessa cuts in, laughing when Scott boops her nose with his finger and agrees.

“Yeah. And honestly? I’d always imagined when we saw each other again it would be like a scene out of the Notebook. Tess running into my arms and a big, romantic kiss. Preferably in the rain. I never expected her to show up and start yelling at me.”

"I didn’t really mean to start yelling," Tessa chimes in, "I planned it all out in my head – all the things I was going to say, how civil I would be, but then I saw him and I just… I was so angry. It was like all of my pain and nerves and regret bubbled to the surface all at once and I lashed out. I hurt him on purpose because I was hurting, but also because I was afraid.”

Dr. Lacey quirks her head at Tessa, and Scott perks up too, curious what she has to say, “Afraid of what?”

“Of what I knew could happen. What I’ve always known. That the second I saw Scott again he would be the only thing that I wanted and I would toss everything away to be with him again. I had to keep him at arm’s length to protect myself.”

“You wanted me that much? Even in June?” He asks in amazement. He'd never dared hope that she felt the same way back then.

“Always. I have _always_ been about one impulse away from throwing myself into your arms. And I was right to worry about that,” Tessa says, reaching up to brush a stray lock of his hair from his forehead, and Scott leans into her touch instinctively. 

“What do you mean?”

"The second we talked, really talked, in the cemetery and then afterward back at the trailer, that was when things were all over with Harry – even if I refused to see it for another two months. As soon as things started to heal between us, the writing was on the wall for my life in Montreal.”

"I’ll admit to feeling really insecure about Harry," Scott admits, ducking his head, "Even after you came back in September. I thought you had really loved him and I was worried he could give you what you deserved – a life in Montreal, fame, fortune. I was worried about that the entire time we were in Montreal in September.”

“That’s my fault. I should have made it clearer when I came back that he didn’t, couldn’t, hold a candle to you, but I could tell the subject made you really uncomfortable so I never brought it up,” Tessa explains, her lips turning downwards in apology.

“I’m just glad to know now that I don’t have competition.”

Tessa shakes her head and leans up for a kiss, breaking more rules in front of their therapist, “You’ve never had any competition. My heart has always belonged to you.”

 

\-------

 

The snow is coming down so fast and thick Scott feels like he’s flying the Millennium Falcon through hyperspace, not cruising down the old familiar road back towards Ilderton. He’s got both hands glued to the steering wheel, knuckles fully white, and his jaw is clenched so tight he knows he’s going to have a headache later.

 _Fuck Canadian winters,_ he thinks with a low grumble that he doesn't really mean. 

Normally he loves winter. Loves hockey and skating and snowball fights and hot cocoa. But driving? Driving in the snow is another matter entirely. 

Which is why he nearly jumps out of his skin when Tessa yells, “Oh my god!”

"What is it?” Scott asks, trying to calm his racing heart that had skyrocketed at her exclamation, "Did you see something on the road?" 

“No," Tessa answers him, giggling a little wildly at her phone, "I just got a text from Kaitlyn. Harry is engaged!”

“Harry like your ex Harry?” Scott asks in confusion. Surely it must be someone else. He was set to marry Tessa only a few months ago, for Pete's sake. 

"The very same,” She starts to read, “ _Lieutenante-gouverneure du Québec_  Michelle Chen is pleased to announce the engagement of her son Harry Chen to Miss Adelaide O’Connor, daughter of Neil and Rebecca O’Connor. The happy couple is to be married on January first, 2019.”

“Wow. That’s, uh, really soon.”

“This is hilarious," Tessa giggles again, scrolling through the message once more for good measure. 

“It is?”

“Can you believe it only took him three months to find someone else and _get engaged_!?” Tessa laughs and shoots off a reply to Kaitlyn with flying thumbs.

“You don’t seem too upset about it," Scott says slowly, hoping and praying that he's right and she really doesn't care at all. 

“That's because I'm not upset. This is fantastic, actually, because it means I can stop feeling bad about leaving him at the altar.”

“I never felt bad about that,” Scott winks and Tessa swats his arm.

"Be nice!" 

"To you? Always," He grins at her and winks again, pleased when she laughs, "Now keep an eye out for our turn off, please." 

"Aye, aye, Captain!" 

****

* * *

 

  ** _December 18, 2018_ **

 

“We’ve talked a lot about the past over the last three months. Tessa’s depression and feelings of abandonment. Scott’s insecurities. The guilt the both of you share. And you’ve said that you’re communicating a lot better and no longer feel afraid to talk about 2007 and the years that came after, which is wonderful! You’ve both made a phenomenal amount of progress. So today I want to talk about the future. There’s a little exercise I want to do, it’s called the miracle question. Suppose tonight, while you slept, a miracle occurred. When you awake tomorrow, what would be some of the things you would notice that would tell you life had suddenly gotten better? Please write down your answers.”

Scott stares at the white blank page on his lap, tapping his pencil against the side of his leg until he feels Tessa’s eyes slide over to look at him in annoyance and he grins at her.

_What would make me happier?_

In the end, he only writes one thing.

 

“We’ll start with Tessa. What did you write, dear?”

Tessa sits up a little straighter and lifts her paper up, revealing that she’d left it blank, before speaking loud and clear, “Well, first I thought about career related things, but those were all something I’m already working towards and didn’t seem like the answer you were looking for. So, I guess, as far as our relationship goes, there isn’t really anything. We’ve come so far and grown so much. I feel like I can trust Scott with anything now, even my own insecurities, and I trust that he won’t leave me to deal with them on my own.”

“Excellent! I’m so glad that you feel that way. And you, Scott?”

Scott lets go of Tessa's hand and slowly lifts his paper up and turns it around. On it he’d simply written:  _children._  

“I know I was probably supposed to say something about us and our relationship, but I’m really happy. Like T said, we’re doing really well, we’re communicating, and I trust her not to leave again. The way I see it, sometime down the road, the only other thing I could want is a child.”

“I want that, too,” Tessa clenches her fingers around his, smiling so softly he can feel his heart fly right out of his chest. 

"You do?”

“Of course. I mean, not for a little while, but yes, eventually. But Scott…” She hesitates and Scott gulps nervously. 

_What isn't she telling me?_

“What?”

“What if I can’t?" Tessa whispers, her eyes falling down to stare a hole into the couch cushions, "What if we try again and 2007 repeats itself?”

“That’s not gonna happen, kiddo. Even if you do miscarry again, we’re in a much better place now. We’re older and more mature and smarter and I will be by your side every step of the way. And we’ll see a doctor straight from the beginning and make sure you’re on all the right medications this time.”

She still doesn't look convinced, so Scott closes the short distance between them and pulls her in close to his side, kissing her temple. 

“And if I can’t have kids at all?” Tessa looks up at him, biting down hard on her lower lip, and he wants to tug it free and sooth the ache for her. 

“Then we can adopt or take in foster kids.”

“I just…" She stops and then starts again, choosing her words carefully, "I’m afraid of disappointing you again.”

“You couldn’t. You didn't the first time, and you couldn't now or in the future,” Scott states with conviction, making sure to maintain eye contact so that she can see he's telling the truth.

“Do you want to talk more about that feeling, Tessa?” Dr. Lacey chimes in. 

"It’s just…  I already did once. Objectively, I know the miscarriage wasn’t my fault, we’ve talked about that a lot, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was my body that failed," Tessa explains, but Scott's already shaking his head before she can get to the end of her sentence. 

“And Scott, were you disappointed in Tessa or her body?”

“No. Not once," He says adamantly, "I never saw it that way. To me it was an external thing that happened to us. To both of us. We're a team." 

Tessa pauses, then smiles as she looks up at him, "Partners?" 

"One hundred percent," Scott nods, squeezing her shoulder on one arm and dropping a kiss to the shoulder closest to him. 

“I’d just like to say that I am so proud of both of you and the work that you’ve been in these past three months. You’ve really come so far. Now, I know it’s the holidays and we’re about to have a little break, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t send you away with a little homework.”

Tessa pulls her folder out of her bag, already prepared to receive the homework they’ve come to expect from their weekly sessions.

“This is a Shared Qualities worksheet,” Dr. Lacey hands them a piece of paper, “We’ve spent a lot of time talking about the miscarriage, 2007, and the years that followed, but before that you had eleven years together. I want you to focus on all of the things you share, both past and present, and what better time to do that than over the holidays, eh?”

"Thank you, Elizabeth, for all of your help these past few months. You've been a lifesaver," Tessa pulls the older woman in for a hug, and if Scott were a betting man he'd say that their therapist has some misty eyes, but she hides it well as soon as she's released from the hug.  

"Have a marvelous Christmas, you two. See you next year!” She says with a wink, shooing them out the door.

 

* * *

 

**_December 31, 2018_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

 

“Chiddy just texted me again,” Tessa comes walking into the kitchen and sets her phone down on the counter before sliding her arms around his waist and stealing a glob of cookie dough faster than he can swat her hand away, “He wants us to come to the pub tonight with him, Liz, Eric, and Luis. ‘Just like old times.’”

She makes air quotes with her fingers as she quotes their friend and steals another ball of dough, this time off the cookie sheet since he’d covered the bowl with his hands to defend it against her, and Scott playfully slaps her ass to reprimand her, “You’re going to get salmonella!”

“Oh please,” Tessa rolls her eyes and pours a generous helping of chocolate chips into her hand straight from the bag, “Nobody ever actually gets that from cookie dough.”

“They must have at some point, otherwise it wouldn’t be a thing people always warn you about,” He points out, his fingers dancing along her ribcage which in turn makes her squeal and escape to the other side of the kitchen, “Do you want to go?”

“As long as I get to kiss you at midnight, I don’t care where we are,” Tessa replies diplomatically, digging a dog treat out of the cupboard and handing it to Babcock.

 _That dog has gained ten pounds since she got here_ , Scott shakes his head with a smile.

A chance to go out? A party with their friends? Normally he would have said yes without a second thought, but it’s New Year’s Eve and something about the idea of going out partying makes his stomach churn.  

“New Year’s Eve, historically, has been a bit of a mixed bag for us,” Scott says slowly, looking over at Tessa and waiting until she meets his face. He can see his own feelings of trepidation reflected in her eyes, “So I thought we could stay in this year, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes,” Tessa smiles softly, walking over to him and leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “That’s definitely okay with me. Especially since that means I don’t have to change,” She tacks on with a little laugh, holding her oversized knit sweater out like a skirt and twirling away – her fuzzy socks gliding easily over the hardwood floor.  

Scott watches her walk back into the living room with a warmth in his heart that has nothing to do with the electric fireplace that Tessa keeps turned up absurdly high.

 _I love her so much_ , he thinks with a giddy little laugh. It’s almost four months to the day since Tessa returned, and he can’t help but feel that this 2019 is going to be their best year yet.

 

 

“What do you want to do while we wait for midnight?” Scott asks as Tessa sets her now empty wine glass down on top of a coaster on the coffee table next to their empty plates. He reaches out to twist a strand of her dark hair around his fingers, playing with the silky smooth texture. The steak and potatoes he had made for dinner sits heavy in his stomach and that combined with the red wine fills him with a pleasant sense of lethargy, but he hopes the tone in his voice conveyed exactly what it is that _he_ would like to do to pass the time.

“I think we should finally do our homework,” Tessa replies, retrieving the piece of paper Dr. Lacey had given them almost two weeks ago despite Scott's groans. They’d been so caught up in all the Christmas celebrations Scott had completely forgotten about the assignment she had given them.

“Aw, Tess, can’t that wait? We don’t see her again until next week.”

“We’ll both get too busy and then forget. Come on, it won’t be bad. Besides, it’ll be fun to reminisce about our childhood.”

She props a book up on her lap to provide support for the paper so that she can write down their answers, and then peers up at him, “We’re supposed to provide three answers for each. Number one: we would like to visit,” Tessa taps the pencil against her chin before answering, “Paris.”

“Tess, you’ve already been to Paris,” Scott points out, pulling her legs up over his lap so that he can rub her calves and feet through her thick leggings.

“But I haven’t been with you. I want to ride on a boat down the Seine at sunset and take pictures with you in front of the Eiffel Tower.”

“Selfies? T, I hate selfies,” Scott groans melodramatically, laughing when Tessa pokes him hard in the thigh with her toe.

“Not with me, you don’t,” She shoots back, pointing at the framed photo of them in front of their new house that they’d taken together back in September after moving in. Both sweaty and flushed and tired, but beaming with pride and happiness. It’s one of Scott’s favorite photos of all time.

“Alright, fine. How about China for number two?” Scott suggests, wondering if she'll catch on.

Tessa’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then slowly pinch together, and then she laughs, “Is this because of _Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon_?”

He grins and tickles her foot, pleased that she’d remembered, “Maybe.”

“Scott, please tell me after all this time that you’ve grown out of that movie. The fight scenes were so weird!”

“It’s a classic!”

“We must have watched that a million times as kids. You even tried to convince me it would help with my history midterm in Grade 10, which it did _not_.”  

“You passed that test anyway," He grins at her, tickling her foot again, "And it’s not just about the movie. We both talked about seeing the seven wonders of the world together when we were kids, we could start with the Great Wall. And don’t try to pretend - you loved that movie, too. We’re watching it this weekend,” Scott decides with a firm nod, and Tessa just rolls her eyes affectionately at him before continuing with the list.

“Fine. What’s number three? Where else should we go together?”

“Uh,” Scott leans his head back against the couch, running over ideas in his head. There are so many places he wants to go with her. Anywhere, really. So he finally just says the first one that comes to mind, "Utah?”

“Utah?” Tessa scrunches up her face in a mixture of confusion and disgust, “As in USA? That Utah?”

“Sure! Why not? Don’t they have the best snow on earth or something?”

“Yeah, because if there’s anything Canada is lacking, it’s snow.”

“Ha, ha. We could go for the Sundance Film Festival. You’d love that.”

“Hmmm…" Tessa taps her pencil against her bottom lip, drawing attention to it, and Scott can feel his interest in the list already starting to wane, "That’s true. That could be a lot of fun.”

“Okay, so what’s question number two?”

“We have fun when we,” Tessa reads, and Scott can’t help the wicked smirk that spreads slowly across his face.

"Are in bed,” He finishes for her, laughing when Tessa sits up straight and looks at him all scandalized and indignant.

"Scott! We can’t put that!”

“Why not? It’s true,” He waggles his eyebrows at her, sliding his hand up higher to squeeze the inside of her thigh, and Tessa splutters and blushes before glaring at him.

“This is supposed to be a serious worksheet.”

“No, it’s supposed to be fun. She wanted us to focus on our happy memories and what we have in common. I happen to think every time we have sex is another happy memory that we share.”

“Well, okay, but I’m not saying that. I’ll put, ‘ _spend a quiet evening alone_.’” Tessa says resolutely, and Scott has to laugh. 

“Yeah, T, because _that_ sounds better.”

“Number two, smart ass, I’m putting down 'tease each other.' Agreed?”

“Yep. Number three you should put reading together. We used to do that all the time as kids, remember?”

The summers they spent reading together were some of the best ones he ever had, and if the happy, wistful smile that spreads across Tessa's face is any indication, they were hers, too. 

“We should do that again.”

“You never did read me the last Harry Potter,” Scott points out, gesturing to the complete seven book set on the shelf across the room, "I miss the accents you used to do." 

“Confession, I’ve actually never read that one. Or seen the movie.”

"What!?” Scott shoots up in his seat, looking and feeling horrified, "That's like a right of passage for our generation!" 

“I didn’t want it to end, so I figured if I never saw or read it, then it never would,” Tessa explains with a little shrug and Scott slumps back in his seat. 

“That’s… very typical of you, but we are definitely reading it.”

“Okay. Number three: as a couple our weaknesses are,”

“You can write those down. We’ve gone over them enough in therapy.”

Tessa scribbles away and Scott knows if he looks he’ll find some variation of _keeping secrets in an attempt not to hurt each other, making choices for the other person,_ and _fear of being hurt_.

“Number four: qualities that we value in the other person.”

“Easy,” Scott lifts up his fingers and starts rattling off all the things he loves about her as if he’d had a list prepared for weeks, “You’re emotionally consistent – you rarely get past the grumpy stage, you’re passionate, you’re sophisticated, you’re so smart, you’re thoughtful, caring, kind, generous. I could go on and on, but really, T, I know I can be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster and you’ve always counterbalanced that with a clear-head and I want you to know I appreciate that.”

“I’m not sure where to start,” Tessa says, her voice suddenly thick with emotion and her green eyes shining a little brighter as she looks at him, “Scott, I value how kind-hearted you are, how driven you’ve proven yourself to be, how generous you are with your time and your resources to your family and friends, and how passionate you are. I really couldn’t ask for a better husband.”

Tessa dabs at her eyes with her sleeve and Scott squeezes her ankle, blinking rapidly to try and prevent himself from getting emotional. All he wants is to toss the paper aside and pull her into his arms, but he knows Tess and he knows that she’ll want to finish this.

They answer the next question about their favorite movies and books and music, and they both briefly reminisce over the mixtape that Scott made her when she’d been grounded after the Halloween dance, before Tessa asks, “Okay, next question, as a couple we’re good at – do not say sex!” She cuts herself off and gives him a stern look and Scott makes a ridiculous face back at her.

“But it’s true! I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed about our sex life, T. Is this an issue? Should I bring it up in our next session?” He grins at her, laughing at the dirty looks she keeps giving him.

“We are not putting that now, just like we didn’t put it earlier. You’re supposed to be taking this seriously.”

“I am! We are _seriously_ good at sex.”

“I’m writing _affection_ ,” Tessa sticks up her nose and jots it down, daring him to argue with her. 

“Tess, that isn’t going to trick her any more than your first answer did.”

“I refuse to make that poor woman die from mortification because you couldn’t keep it in your… mouth.”

“There are plenty of other things I could keep in my mouth, if you want,” He waggles his eyebrows at her, smirking when she blushes a pretty shade of pink, and slides his hand higher up on her leg until her breath hitches. 

“Okay, we are definitely not writing down dirty talk as something you’re good at,” Tessa says, attempting to regain the upper hand. 

“That’s a blatant lie! You take that back, Tessa Virtue!”

“It’s Tessa _Moir_ , thank you very much," She grins at him and his heart goes  _thump_. She knows that's his secret weakness, "And if you’re going to use crappy pick-up lines then that’s what you get.”

“It’s not my fault! You were supposed to help me write that book, remember?” Scott pokes her side, hoping that she’ll recall their conversation from when they’d first moved into the trailer.

“You mean do I remember you having terrible pick-up lines eleven years ago, too? Yes, I do," Tessa shoots back with a laugh, "Now, next question. Three goals for our future?”

“Kids, kids, more kids,” Scott jokes (well, mostly jokes. Really he's mostly serious, but he doesn't want to freak her out).

"You want three kids?” Tessa looks up at him curiously, and Scott shrugs noncommittally. It's not like he's already been thinking of names and how to decorate the nursery or anything. 

(He has). 

"Sure. Three is a good number. It seemed to work out for my mom.”

“Ugh. I refuse to raise three boys," Tessa scrunches up her nose, "I know what kind of trouble you got into.”

“Uh, may I remind you that you were literally by my side for ninety-five percent of that, _girl_?” Scott reaches out and boops her nose, squishing it back down into its normal position. 

“That is beside the point," She laughs, pushing his hand away and tickling his ribs. 

“That is very much the point, if you're going to be maligning my family's good name." 

"Moir? As in  _always getting into Moir trouble than they're worth_?" She laughs at her own joke and it's so infectious that Scott can't help but join in.  

“Come on, T, we can finish the rest of that later,” He plucks the paper from her hand and puts it on the table and then rearranges them so that they’re laying horizontally on the couch with Tessa draped over him, their legs intertwining.

"Your kids are going to be Moirs too, you know," He points out, stroking her hair away from her face and loving the way she nuzzles into him. 

"I know," Tessa replies with a happy little sigh, kissing the underside of his jaw, and Scott hums in contented pleasure. 

They lay there in silence for a moment, enjoying the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional fan blowing out the hot air over to them on the couch and Babcock’s little snores from where he’s sleeping on the rug. Eventually Scott slides his hand up underneath Tessa’s sweater so that he can draw little shapes and pictures directly on the skin of her back.

“I think that worksheet was actually a really good idea,” Tessa says after Scott’s already started to doze, jolting him back awake.

“What? Oh, yeah. I do, too.”

“Dr. Lacey was right. I think I forgot, or maybe refused to remember, how amazing our childhood was together. It was good, wasn't it?”

“Yeah, it was,” Scott hums into her hair, dropping a kiss to the top of her head for good measure.

“Although you really could be cheesy back then,” Tessa tilts her head up on his chest to grin at him and Scott scoffs, pretending to be annoyed. 

“I’m offended that you don’t think I’m cheesy now!”

“That mixtape? You put _Jailhouse Rock_ on there,” Tessa laughs, laying her head back down on his chest and practically purring when he scratches down her spine with his blunt fingernails. 

“That was an amazing mixtape! Do you still have it?” 

He hasn't listened to the songs on it in years, barely remembers what he'd even put on there, but he'd like to hear it again, if possible. 

“Yeah, it’s in one of my boxes in the spare room.”

"You should go get it.”

“Yeah? Okay. I’ll be right back." 

Tessa climbs off of him and he's momentarily tempted to reach out and pull her back, feeling the loss of her keenly, but it doesn't take her long to run upstairs and find the tape and come back down waving it like a trophy. 

"Voila! Let's hope it'll still play." 

Scott hops up off the couch and takes it from her, walking across the room to the fancy stereo that he'd bought that miraculously still has a tape deck, despite the technology being practically obsolete in 2018. 

The sound quality is a little warped and wobbly, but it's good enough, and they both dissolve into fits of laughter at the first couple of song choices he'd put together for her to mourn her prison sentence.  

“You know you really weren’t subtle with your choices,” Tessa points out as Scott spins her away and then pulls her back in to the melody of _You Make My Dreams Come True_ by Hall & Oates. He’d forgotten how sappy he’d been.

Apparently some things never change. He's already putting together a mental list for the Tessa MixTape 2.0. 

“It still took you two months to figure out I wanted to date you, though,” Scott shoots back, dipping her by surprise and making her laugh. Babcock, having been woken up by their loud, rather enthusiastic, dance party for two watches them with a judgmental expression (clearly unimpressed by their antics and annoyed at having been disturbed).

“I was fifteen and self-conscious, can you blame me?”

“Nah. We got there in the end,” Scott grins, stealing a kiss with a loud smack and making her laugh. 

“Can you believe tomorrow will be the fourteenth anniversary of the day we decided to date?”

“We’ve come a long way since then, kiddo.”

He pulls her in closer so that they're mostly swaying instead of dancing, relishing the feeling of her so close in his arms. It's something not too long ago he'd thought he'd never have again. 

“I wonder what the future will bring," Tessa muses quietly and Scott hums, remembering the old saying from long ago. 

“Well, I know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The first person you encounter in the new year, and the type of encounter, sets the tone for the year,” Scott whispers in her ear, echoing his own words from 2007, but this time with a happy twist, “This time I intend to do it right.”

“You’re right, you _are_ still cheesy,” She whispers against his lips as the clock chimes midnight and Scott kisses her with all he’s got before leading her upstairs, making sure that 2019 will have  _exactly_ the right tone.

        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Elizabeth Lacey is a real therapist in London, but I only borrowed her name - everything else is entirely fictitious.


	5. June 26, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's try this again, the right way this time.

** never knew the best was yet to come **

****

**_June 26, 2019_ **

**_Bayfield, Ontario_ **

 

The sound of the azure water lapping at the shore provides a soothing background noise as Tessa settles into her copy of _The Year of the Flood_. The book has been on her reading list for quite some time (she practically worships Margaret Atwood, even if _The Handmaid’s Tale_ does give her nightmares) and the prospect of an entire afternoon to read and dig her toes into the pristine sand fills her with quiet contentment.

She had always loved coming to her family’s cabin in the summers when she was growing up, and now that she’s reconnected with her old life she’s taking full advantage of the property again. The rest of the Virtues (and most of the Moirs) will be joining them at the end of the week for the holiday, but right now it’s just her and Scott and a cottage and miles of beach all to themselves.

The man in question descends the wooden staircase down from the patio and saunters over to her with a smile, two tall glasses of lemonade in his hands, the sun glinting off of his rapidly tanning chest, and not for the first time Tessa feels envious of his ability to get some color without first turning into a freckled lobster like she does.

Scott wolf whistles as he approaches, loud and lascivious, “Hey there, pretty lady. You come here often?” He drops down on the sand beside her, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips, and Tessa laughs as she brushes his hair away from his forehead. He’s been begging her for a haircut for a while now (even though they can afford a proper barber), but she likes how floppy and tuggable it is.

“I’m already with someone, sorry,” She frowns, playing along as she takes one of the glasses from him - wrapping her lips coquettishly around the reusable straw - and Scott throws the back of his hand over his forehead and sighs longingly - staring out at the lake like he’s the wronged hero in some dramatic movie.

“Lucky bastard,” He mutters, and Tessa laughs again and tickles his ribs, making him squirm.

“I like to think _I’m_ the lucky one,” She carefully sets her book down on the sand so that she can lean in and kiss him, cupping his face and tilting her head a little to get the perfect angle.

Scott reciprocates enthusiastically for a few minutes until they both are forced to pull away for air, but he doesn’t stray far. He keeps his forehead pressed against hers as he reaches up and twists the strap of her bikini top, fixing it so that it’s laying correctly, “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” Tessa hums happily, taking another long sip of her lemonade and relishing the tart flavor, “I think it must have just been something I ate last night.”

Scott’s head flies backward and he stares at her, affronted, “Are you insulting my salmon? I’ll have you know that salmon is a _hit_ with Chiddy and Liz. In fact, Chiddy credits the recipe with convincing Liz to say yes to his marriage proposal.”

Tessa laughs and then pats his arm sympathetically, “I’d never insult your salmon. I’m sure it has many magical properties. It was probably just a fluke thing.”

“Hmmm,” Scott side-eyes her even as he throws an arm around her shoulders and tucks her into his side, drinking half of his lemonade in one go, “Well I got you some Pepto Bismol at the store just in case. You seemed pretty sick this morning.”

“I feel fine now. Really,” She presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw and snuggles in a little closer, letting her hand fall into his lap and slowly tracing the inseam of his swim trunks, “In fact, I was wondering if you wanted to go swimming with me.”

“Oh yeah?” Scott makes a choking sound in the back of his throat when she idly strokes her index finger over his cock, before moving back down his thigh, and Tessa smiles slyly up at him.

“Yeah. Maybe recreate a certain memory we both share here out in the water?”

Scott looks down at her, a wicked grin spreading across his face, and she knows he understands _exactly_  what she’s referring to, “You’re on, Virtch. Last one in the lake is a rotten egg.”

 

 

 

“We should go on a honeymoon,” Scott holds his fork out for her to try a piece of his fancy ravioli that night as they sit across from each other at dinner, and Tessa freezes just as she leans in over the table to take the proffered bite. The candlelight flickers between them and the waves can be heard through the open patio doors creating the perfect ambiance for romance, and Tessa wonders if she actually heard him correctly or if she just imagined it. 

“What?”

“Think about it,” Scott smiles, prodding her mouth with the ravioli until she accepts it and starts chewing, then reaches for his glass of water, “We only got that one night after our wedding in that hotel in London. It was an amazing gift, but it wasn’t exactly a _honeymoon_. We should go on one now.”

Tessa swallows her food and takes a big gulp of water before looking back up at him, hope blossoming in her chest, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. Maybe Hawaii or the Caribbean or a cruise. Somewhere warm where you can drive me insane with all of your skimpy bathing suits. What do you think?” He’s grinning now, big and bright, and Tessa can feel herself returning the smile.

Honestly, she’s a little bit surprised the idea didn’t occur to her first. They deserve a proper honeymoon and it could be another way to solidify their new start. A way to mark their first year back together.

She reaches out and takes his hand over the table, “I think that sounds amazing. We’ve never really traveled anywhere together.”

“It was one of the suggestions we talked about with Dr. Lacey, remember? She thinks it’s a good idea.”

"When did you talk to her about it?” Tessa tilts her head. If they’d talked about romantic getaways, surely she would have remembered it or it would be written down somewhere in her meticulous notes, but it doesn’t ring a bell other than their worksheet they did at the new year.

“Last month when you had to miss our appointment to go to Montreal. She said I should surprise you, but I wanted to talk to you about it first. Total transparency, right?” He winks, scraping the rest of his food off his plate and shoving it into his mouth in one last, big bite.

“I think romantic surprises are okay,” Tessa chuckles, but then she nods enthusiastically, “I think it’s a great idea. I can’t wait to start planning.”

The thought of just her and Scott on some secluded beach in the Caribbean, getting drunk on piña coladas and strawberry daiquiris, enjoying the sun and the beach and the crystal clear waters? It sounds like her idea of heaven.

“Maybe we could go in December, just before Christmas. Escape the winter for a little bit,” Scott stands and begins clearing their plates and Tessa grabs their glasses and follows him into the kitchen, taking her place by his side at the sink as he starts to rinse them - handing each item to her one by one so that she can load the dishwasher.

“I’d like that. And maybe,” She pauses, squaring her shoulders for added confidence before continuing, “Maybe we could renew our vows, too?”

Scott turns away from the sink to face her, bringing both of her hands up to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of them, “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

“Even better than in the water earlier when I-“

“Yep,” He cuts her off by pressing his lips firmly against hers, tugging on her bottom lip a little with his teeth when he pulls away, “Even better than that. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Do you think we should invite our families?”

“Let’s talk to them about it when they get here this weekend. They might not all be able to afford it, depending on where we go, but I think our parents will want to be there. And Danny and Charlie would love any excuse for a vacation.”

“And if we tell Jordan early enough she should be able to clear her schedule.”

“So this is happening?” Scott smiles hopefully, and Tessa leans up to kiss him again. 

“Yeah, this is happening.”

 

\-------

 

“Tess?” Tessa hears him calling for her before she sees him, but it only takes a second for him to push open the bathroom door and find her, rubbing his eyes as they adjust to the light, “Are you okay?”

She opens her mouth to answer, but ends up vomiting into the toilet again instead. Mostly stomach acid this time, since she’s already lost everything she’d eaten the night before.

“Oh, shit!” Scott rushes over to gather up her hair, holding it out of the way while rubbing soothing circles between her shoulders, “This is the second day in a row you’ve woken up like this. Maybe you’ve caught a bug.”

“Maybe,” Tessa wipes her mouth and sags back against the wall, panting and covered in a thin layer of sweat. She feels absolutely disgusting and exhausted and in desperate need of a shower, but there’s something she needs to say first. A sneaking suspicion that she isn’t entirely ready to turn into a solid thought yet, but needs to be said anyway. 

After all, like he'd said at dinner, they'd agreed on total transparency. No more secrets.

“Maybe it’s something else.”

Scott pinches his eyebrows together and she can tell that he’s not getting the hint, “What could it be then? Do you think it’s something more serious?”

“I mean,” Tessa hesitates, then climbs up to sit on the edge of the bathtub next to him, “We haven’t exactly been _careful_ , Scott.”

She fixes him with a significant look and waits as the realization dawns slowly on his face, followed by the hint of a smile that he seems to suppress almost immediately (but not quickly enough that she doesn’t catch it), “Oh. You mean-“

“I don’t know,” Tessa rushes to clarify. She really _doesn’t_ know if she is… that. Because they haven’t been careful and she hasn’t really been tracking her cycles or anything and it hadn’t been something she was actively thinking about preventing, “I missed my last period, but I don’t always bleed every month on the birth control pills. I just assumed June was one of those months where I didn't and dismissed it.”

Scott frowns and runs a hand through his already crazy, fluffy hair, making it stick out in all sorts of directions, and Tessa itches to reach out and fix it for him, “T, I might be showing some ignorance here, but you’ve been taking birth control pills and we’ve used condoms pretty consistently. This seems like kind of a long shot.”

“Well, between all the traveling and our busy schedules, I haven’t really… I haven’t been the best at remembering to take my pill at the same time every day, which affects how effective it is. And I’ll admit there have been some days where I forget to take it completely,” She directs her confession to the tile floor, finding it hard to look at him just then. He’d seemed excited at the prospect of her _maybe_ being pregnant, but she can’t quite get a read on him at the moment. If she's wrong and he's unhappy about this, she's not sure she'll be able to handle it.

“But the condoms?” He points out again, nudging her shoulder with his own, “We’ve been pretty good about those.”

“Not on my birthday,” She murmurs, glancing over at him, and Scott’s face turns beet red at the memory.

 

******

 

_**May 17, 2019** _

_**Ilderton, Ontario** _

 

Tessa drops her bags off in the foyer with a slump, rolling her shoulders and twisting her neck to try to work the kinks out. She’d been in Montreal all week going over some project details with Marie-France, and it’s a relief to finally be off the plane and back home.

She can hear music coming from somewhere towards the back of the house – jazz, she recognizes with no small amount of surprise – and she pauses in front of the hallway mirror to check her curls and tug her pink cardigan so that it sits correctly before going to find her husband.

She discovers Scott in front of the stove, his hips swaying to the music, a half-empty glass of red wine on the counter next to a random collection of ingredients, his grey shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows and the fabric hugging him in all the right places as the muscles in his back move while he cooks.

Basically he looks like a full course meal and she can’t wait to devour him.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and films him dancing for a second – he really does have a surprisingly good sense of rhythm – but then he throws his head back and does a poor imitation of Louis Armstrong and she dissolves into a fit of laughter, giving away her presence.

Scott drops the tongs he’s holding and spins around, “Tess! Warn a guy first! You almost gave me a heart attack,” He places his hand over his heart dramatically and Tessa laughs even more.

“I’m sorry. You looked like you were having too much fun to be interrupted. Here,” She picks up a hand towel and tosses it over his shoulder, “Now you look the part. A genuine chef.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head affectionately, then grabs her by the hips and pulls her in for a searing kiss, “Welcome home babe, and happy birthday.”

“Thank you. What are we eating?”

She hopes it’s him. Or her. She really doesn’t care who goes first as long as it ends with both of them naked.

“My signature dish: steak and potatoes with asparagus on the side. Then after dinner we’re meeting Eric, Luis, Chiddy, and Liz for drinks at the bar.”

She watches as Scott absentmindedly licks something off his thumb, followed by his index and middle fingers, and it could practically be considered pornographic based on the way heat floods between her legs. It's a struggle, but she forces her voice to remain level when she speaks again.

_I shouldn't pounce on him when he's trying to cook, right? Would that be rude?_

“Sounds perfect. How can I help?” She steals a cherry tomato from the salad bowl and pops it into her mouth and Scott whips the towel off his shoulder and swats her ass with it faster than she can blink.

"Quit it! Go unpack or wait in the living room. You can’t help with your own birthday dinner. Or any dinner,” He teases and Tessa playfully shoves his shoulder.  

“But I’m hungry,” She pouts, giving Scott her best puppy dog eyes – the ones she knows he can’t resist - then dropping them to blatantly look at his crotch, hoping he'll take the hint.

But apparently tonight he remains immune to her charm as he says, “There are crackers in the cupboard if you’re desperate.”

“Hmm,” She purrs, trying another tactic, her voice dripping with honey, “I have something else in mind.”

Apparently, when subtlety isn't working, it's time to pull out the big guns _._

She slips her fingers under the hem of his shirt to drag her nails across his abs before moving lower to cup him over his jeans, smirking when his breath hitches and his eyes grow dark. It's only fair, since apparently he can get her halfway there just by licking his damn fingers. 

“Tess,” He warns, “Don’t distract me. This is hot.”

“So am I,” She winks, “And it’s been five days. Five very long days during which my only company has been my imagination and my own hands.”

Scott groans and thrusts his hips against her hand, his eyelids flickering closed for a moment at the image she’s presented him with, before reopening and looking at her with blatant desire, “I know. Believe me, T, I know, but I have something planned for later tonight that I think you’re gonna love.”

She likes the sound of that, but she also wasn’t kidding when she said it had been five long days and she is too full of pent up arousal to wait for dinner and an outing with friends before getting her hands on her husband.

“I can’t wait that long,” Tessa unbuckles his belt and frees the button before dragging down the zipper, taking the fact that he isn't stopping her as encouragement.

“Ungh, fine,” Scott switches off the stove and moves the pan onto a different burner, “Quick though, or we’ll ruin dinner.”

“Sounds good to me!” Tessa’s already got her thumbs tucked in the waistband of her jeans, shoving them to the floor along with her underwear and kicking both items to the side.

"Fuck, Tess, are you trying to kill me?” He licks his lips as he stares at her long legs, and Tessa feels a surge of self-confidence. She loves how sexy he can make her feel with just a single look.

“No. Not until I get what I want, that is,” She grins and Scott retaliates by grabbing her ass and hoisting her up onto the edge of the island.

“This is so unhygienic,” He complains, kissing his way down her throat and unbuttoning her cardigan with nimble fingers, “They’d never let a chef get away with this at Le Cordon Bleu.”

“I can’t believe you even know what that is,” Tessa laughs, tugging his shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere behind her.

“Out of the two of us, you’re surprised _I_ know a famous cooking school?” Scott leans back and fixes her with a look, and Tessa giggles.

"Touche,” She shrugs her cardigan off her shoulders, leaning backwards to grant Scott better access to her chest so that he can pull the cups of her bra down and suck one of her nipples into his mouth.

“You promised me quick,” She breathes, her heart beating wildly in her chest and making her feel like she might explode any second, “In, in, in.”

She loops one leg around his hip and tugs, bringing his erection in direct contact with her center and moaning at the delicious sensation as he grinds slowly against her. If she lives to be a hundred years old she’ll never get enough of this.

“Wait. Tess, I know you’ve gotten a little lax with your birth control. Last Sunday you said, ‘Oh, shit,’ and took two of them at once. And we don’t have any condoms in here. We need to go upstairs,” Scott starts to pull away from her, but she loops her other leg around his waist and hooks her ankles behind his back, forcing him to stay where he is.

“No. Here. Right now. Just pull out.”

“That isn’t a foolproof plan.”

“So?”

“Tess,” He warns.

“Scott,” She shoots back in the same tone, grinding against him and whimpering. She’s already so close, she only needs just a little bit of effort from him.

“Don’t say stuff like that if you don’t mean it. This is a big deal.”

Tessa opens her eyes and meets his stern look, clearing her mind enough to caress his cheek and nod, “I do mean it.”

His mouth drops open and his eyebrows shoot upwards, “You’re serious?”

“I know it’s pretty fast, and I’m not saying lets toss everything out the window and start tracking ovulation cycles and going at it like rabbits, I’m just saying if it happens, I won’t be upset,” She shrugs and goes back to grinding against him, enjoying how he feels without the thin layer of the condom between them. It's something she thoroughly enjoys and doesn't get to experience enough.

"You’re sure?” He checks again, barely entering her before pausing to scan her face for any sign of doubt.

"Yes. Now fuck me, Moir.”

Tessa grabs his hips and pulls him the rest of the way inside, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

 

A few minutes later - Scott softening inside her and the two of them holding on tightly to each other as they work to get their heartbeats back down to normal levels - Tessa notices a smell and starts to laugh.

“What?” Scott groans into her neck, nipping underneath her ear and making her shiver.

“Apparently I can still ruin meals even if I'm not the one cooking. I think your asparagus is burning.”

“Shit!”

 

*******

 

They come to an agreement that it's better to be safe than sorry (ironic, considering the circumstances), and they might as well take the test so that they aren't worrying all through the holiday as they wait to see if Tessa's period (or withdrawal bleeding, to get technical about it) arrives. 

The only place open so early in the morning in Bayfield is a 24-Hour mart with exactly one dozing employee slumped behind the counter. Tessa can forgive the kid though, she isn’t exactly known for being a morning person either, and she’d rather he didn’t watch them walk around the store searching for pregnancy tests.

“How many should we get?” Scott asks when they finally find the right aisle. There aren’t many options and most of the boxes look pretty beaten up, but it’s better than nothing. If she is pregnant, she needs to know _now_.

It’s been eleven years and their situation is completely different, but she can’t help but be taken back to that cold January afternoon when she and Jordan had stood in a store in Toronto asking the same question.

“I don’t know. Jordan and I got ten last time, but that might be a bit excessive.”

“Hey,” Scott takes her by the elbow and gently guides her around so that she’s facing him and he can look her in the eyes, then he cups her face with his hands - staving off her rising panic attack, “You know this is nothing like last time right?”

“I know,” She smiles at him, swallowing her nerves. He’s absolutely right, of course. This time they’re in this together straight from the beginning, they’re already married and committed to a life together, but part of her still can’t help feeling like she’s seventeen again.

"However this ends up, this is a good thing,” She nods firmly, trying to convince herself with her words as much as him, “We’re fine. Let’s just get two different tests. If they’re both positive we’ll need to see a doctor anyway, might as well save the money.”

“That’s my practical girl,” Scott kisses her forehead and grabs the two in the best condition, tossing them into basket next to the bottles of Gatorade that Tessa had insisted she would need.

_His girl_ , Tessa sighs, letting go of some of the nerves building up in her stomach, and follows him to the check-out counter, _we're together, and_ _we’re going to be okay._

          

 

Tessa heads straight to the bathroom as soon as they get back to the cottage with Scott hot on her heels – one of the bottles of Gatorade gripped tightly in her hand and a pregnancy test in the other, as if they’re her supplies as she marches into war – barely giving him any time to properly park the car.          

“What are you doing?” Scott puts his hand out to stop her from closing the bathroom door all the way, and Tessa looks up at him in confusion.

“I have to pee. That’s kind of how this works,” She says, hiding her mounting anxiety with her sarcasm. It seems to come and go in waves, and she has a feeling she might throw up again before this is all over.

“I know,” Scott replies like it’s obvious and she’s the one being weird.

“I’m not peeing in front of you,” Tessa states firmly, realizing that he’d been trying to follow her into the bathroom while she takes the test, “The results aren’t instantaneous, so you won’t miss anything by waiting outside the door.”

“Fine,” He pouts, looking like she’d just kicked him, but even though she’s totally comfortable with being around him and sharing space again, she doesn’t think that’s a line she’ll ever want to cross. Besides, the gymnastics it requires to get the stick perfectly positioned between her legs is not something she needs him teasing her about later.

“How’s it going in there?” Scott calls out through the door only seconds later, and Tessa swears they can feel her eyes rolling all the way in China. It’s sweet how eager he is, but it’s also hard to relax when she knows he’s waiting right outside.

“Fine! Just-hang on,” She yells back, counting to five before pulling the stick away and setting it on the counter.

“Okay, you can come in,” Tessa opens the door a moment later and Scott sweeps her up into a bear hug.

“We were apart for barely a minute,” She chuckles into his shoulder and Scott squeezes her ribs tighter before letting her drop back down to her feet.

"I know. I just,” He pauses, searching for the right words, “I missed all of this last time.” He gestures aimlessly around the bathroom and Tessa understands what he's trying to say.

Last time she’d been scared shitless and afraid to even tell him her period was late, let alone that she might be pregnant. He hadn’t been there for the tests or the first few weeks of morning sickness or even the first doctor’s appointment. But it’s obvious from the way he clings to her hand that he intends not to miss a single second of it this time, if it turns out to be positive.       

"We should talk while we wait,” Scott says, guiding her to sit on the edge of the bathtub, the test resting ostentatiously on the counter across from them and somehow looking twice its actual size.  

“About what?” Tessa sets the timer on her phone and scoots in close to his side, hoping to absorb some comfort from him via osmosis, if possible.  

“How we’re feeling right now. How we _will_ feel if-“ He lets his voice trail off and Tessa finishes the sentence for him.

“If I’m pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Scott nods and takes her hand, “This is a really big deal for us, Tess. We haven’t faced this particular test of our new relationship yet. We’ll _definitely_ need to bring it up in therapy next week, no matter what happens today. I know we’ve talked about it – about trying for a baby in the next year or two – but I’m sure this is sooner than you expected. It’s definitely sooner than I expected.”

“It is sooner than I thought it would be,” Tessa admits slowly, “I know we both got careless, but I just assumed the chances were slim enough,” She pauses and huffs out a little laugh, “It’s ridiculous that if you so much as look at me with dirty thoughts without a condom on, apparently I get pregnant. We must have the worst luck.”

“Or the best, depending on how you look at it,” He smiles softly at her, “And that’s simply not true, otherwise we would have about five thousand kids by now,” He snorts and Tessa chuckles along with him, “But seriously, T, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I’m okay actually,” She sees the doubt in his eyes and bumps his shoulder with hers, the corners of her mouth tilting up in a small, reassuring smile, “I am. It _is_ fast. I mean, I haven’t even been back for a whole year yet. I kind of hoped we’d have more time just the two of us, but if I am pregnant, then that’s alright.”

“Yeah?” He looks back and forth between her eyes for any doubt, but she knows he won’t find it. She is okay, even if also a bit (or very) shocked.

“Yeah. Now how do _you_ feel?”

“Honestly” A huge smile spreads across his face, stretching from ear to ear, “I'm really excited. Can we check yet?”

“In about thirty seconds.”

“I want to be a dad, Tess,” He confesses, gripping her fingers a little tighter between his own, “And I want a family with you. You know that. Today, tomorrow, next year, whenever. I’m all in.”

She did know that, he hasn’t exactly been subtle about it, but it’s a relief to hear him say it so bluntly out loud all the same.

The timer on her phone goes off and Tessa grabs the test from the counter, looking down at the white stick and reading the unmistakable word **pregnant** in bold letters in the little window.

"Well? What’s the diagnosis?” Scott prompts her, wiping her cheek with his thumb, and Tessa’s surprised to see it come away damp.

_Oh, I’m crying_ , she realizes with wonder, _And… I’m actually genuinely happy about this_.

“Tess?” Scott tries again, sounding a little more anxious, and Tessa wordlessly hands the test to him. He takes it from her almost reverently.

“It’s positive,” He whispers, choking on the last syllable, and his own eyes fill with tears to match her own.

“Yeah.”

"You’re crying.”

“Happy tears,” She reassures him, “I promise.”

She’s surprised to find that she means it. That morning, her head leaning over the toilet bowl as she started wondering if her sickness wasn’t related to food, she hadn’t known how to feel, but now she’s overwhelmed with relief. And despite what she'd been telling him about being fine with whatever happened, she hadn’t realized how much she wanted it to be positive until it came true.

Scott pulls her legs up into his lap and kisses her for all he’s worth, until she’s breathless and dizzy and her lips are swollen, and she knows he feels the same way she does.

“I’m so happy,” He whispers, and Tessa opens her mouth to say the same thing, but instead finds herself rambling.

“We need to call Dr. Lovett right away. I need a scan and meds and vitamins and maybe I should do prenatal yoga? And we should buy updated copies of all the books. And start thinking about the nursery! I think the corner room on the east side would be perfect. And we should check out hospitals and birthing centers. Oh, I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl. Do you still have that list of names you made once? And this means we won't be able to go on that honeymoon in December. There's no way I'm flying while super pregnant. We'll have to postpone.”

“Tess, slow down,” Scott laughs, effectively shutting her up by kissing her solidly on the mouth, “One thing at a time, babe.”

“I want to do everything right this time,” She says quietly, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and placing a hand protectively over her stomach where she can almost imagine a little tiny bean growing inside her. Along with that though, is the growing knot of worry. A knot she has a feeling won’t be going away until there’s a healthy baby in her arms.

_What if I fuck this up again?_

_What if everything goes wrong?_

_What if this is 2007 repeating itself?_

"I’m not sure there is such a thing as doing _everything_ right,” Scott kisses her cheek and puts his hand over hers, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, “But we’ll be careful. We’ll call Dr. Lovett’s office and see if she can see us this week and get you on the right medications to manage your APS. She said last time that with the right medications and care you should be able to carry a baby full term.”

"I know. You’re right,” Tessa relaxes her shoulders and blows out the breath she’d been holding. Maybe she should look into some prenatal meditation as well. Anxiety probably isn’t good for the baby.

“No matter what we’re together, and no matter what I love you,” Scott repeats their words from before each therapy session, and even though she’s heard them fifty times or more by now, they still do the trick.

Tessa relaxes the rest of the way into his arms and tucks her head under his chin, “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Yeah,” He nods, his voice thick and the tears starting to return, “We are.”  

                  

****


	6. February 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something long overdue. 
> 
> Warning: pregnancy sex, labor & delivery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing to stick with me through this universe. I've really come to care a lot about these characters and I'm so excited to finally expand their little family.

** little angel face **

****

**_February 14, 2020_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

****

“Kate and I have prepared about a hundred frozen dinners for you guys. Can I bring those over today?”

“Sure, Mom,” Scott props his phone on his shoulder, digging around in his pockets for his keys. It’s a bit of a struggle, thanks to the bags of groceries in his hand and the massive box of diapers under his arm (Tessa had woken up in a panic convinced that they didn’t have enough for when the baby arrived), and he nearly drops his phone a few times before getting the keys into the lock, “That sounds great. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, Scottie. We’re both so excited for you and Tess and we’re here to help any way that we can. How’s she doing, by the way? I know the due date was yesterday, but plenty of women go over with their first. Is she handling it okay?”

The concern in his mother’s voice makes Scott smile. She’d been so great over the past year - covering for him at the rink during all of Tessa’s doctor appointments, answering all five million of Tessa’s questions about pregnancy and labor and delivery, and bringing over boxes and boxes of clothes (some donations from Charlie and Danny, but most of them her own purchases). He can’t wait for her to be a grandmother again to his own child.

"She’s fine,” Scott thinks back to the night before, when Tessa had accused the baby in her uterus of not actually being her child because a Virtue is never late to anything, and laughs, “Definitely ready to be done, but we just want a healthy baby, whenever she chooses to arrive.”

“That’s very true. That’s the most important thing.”

He drops the box in the foyer with a thud, trying not to crack the eggs in the bottom of the grocery bags as he sets them down too, “I’ve gotta go, Mom. We’ll see you later though?”

“Yep! Kate and I will come by around four. Tell Tess there might be a little surprise for her, too,” She says, and Scott can hear the smile in her voice that means she’ll probably be bringing along a big tray of molasses cookies (Tessa’s current obsession).

“She’ll be bouncing around all afternoon until you get here,” He chuckles at the thought. Bouncing as much as she _can,_ that is. Her range of motion isn’t exactly great these days. “We really appreciate your help. Thanks again.”

Scott puts his keys in the bowl on the table by the door and shrugs off his coat before grabbing the groceries and heading towards the kitchen to look for his wife.

She’s usually somewhere close by with something sweet in one hand and a steaming mug of cocoa in the other. Although lately she’d developed a preference for cherry popsicles, despite the fact that it’s the middle of winter in Ontario and, by all accounts, freezing outside. Scott had picked up two more boxes for her just that morning.

Her excuse is that she’s hot _all_ the time thanks to the human furnace in her stomach, and therefore he isn’t allowed to judge her choices. Not that he ever would, of course. He’s not about to complain when Tessa’s literally trying to grow a human. What Tessa wants, Tessa gets.

“Tess?” He can hear weird sounds coming from the direction of the family room in the back of the house – heavy breathing and a repetitive thumping noise – and he follows it in confusion, feeling a little worried about what exactly he’s about to walk in on.

Whatever he’d expected though, it wasn’t this.

It takes his eyes a second to adjust after he emerges from the hallway thanks to the bright sunlight reflecting off the snow in their back yard streaming in through the large windows, but when they do Scott finds Tessa bouncing enthusiastically up and down on a bright blue exercise ball and watching a rerun of Dawson’s Creek.

Pacey’s about to tell Joey he remembers everything about her while they dance at the anti-prom, and Tessa sniffs and wipes her cheeks without losing her rhythm.

“Uh, Tess, what are you doing?” He purses his lips together, trying desperately not to laugh, and Tessa’s head spins around to find him – her face breaking out into a megawatt smile through the tears (she’d told him a few months ago to ignore the crying, “It’s just pregnancy hormones, Scott,” but he finds it difficult even now not to run over and wipe them away for her).  

“Hi!” She greets him happily, as if what she’s doing is the most natural thing in the world, “I’m bouncing!”

“I can see that,” Scott nods, allowing himself to smile, but still refusing to laugh at her lest she feel insulted somehow. She looks so adorable, though, in her maroon cotton maternity bra and (his) sweatpants with her round stomach protruding out over her thighs, “ _Why_?”

“I’m a day late, Scott,” She fixes him with a look that says _duh_ and blows the strand of hair out of her eyes that had come loose from her ponytail.

“And so you’re going to bounce the baby out of you?”

“I looked up suggestions for naturally inducing labor and exercise like this was one of them. I walked to my Mom’s and back too. _Twice_ ,” She adds proudly, sitting up a little straighter.

Unable to resist any longer, Scott lets out a laugh before bending down to peck her on the lips, then turns to head over towards the kitchen to get started on their Valentine’s dinner. He’s only got something small planned, since they had anticipated being in the hospital by now, or busy with round-the-clock feedings, but he still wants it to be special.

Tessa grabs his arm before he can get too far away and uses him for leverage to tug herself up off the ball, struggling to find her balance until Scott reaches out to help her, “Thanks. Are you making anything spicy?”

“No. I don’t want to make your heartburn worse,” He checks to make sure she isn’t in danger of toppling over, then lets go and walks into the kitchen to set down his grocery bag of supplies.

“That was one of the recommendations, though, to eat spicy food,” Tessa says, waddling close behind him, “A lot of people commented and said it was a myth, but I figure it can’t hurt, right?”

“Tess,” Scott looks up at her hopeful face and speaks slowly and patiently, “Remember the pineapple incident three weeks ago? You were in a lot of pain all night. We’re trying to _avoid_ heartburn like that again.”

She grimaces and awkwardly climbs onto one of the barstools, “Oh yeah.”

“How about this, I make dinner – something that won’t put you in a pain – then we’ll go for a walk around the block together and I’ll say all sorts of encouraging labor things to our daughter,” Tessa laughs and he grins at her, “Then we’ll snuggle up in front of the fire and read Harry Potter out loud.”

They’d started reading out loud as soon as Tessa knew their baby could hear them, anxious to make sure their child knew their voices and how loved it was, and Scott had suggested Harry Potter – a precious memory for both of them, as well as an excellent start to any child’s education.

Tessa wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him as best she can, their daughter kicking so hard against the added pressure that Scott can see Tessa's stomach move (something he finds equally fascinating and disturbing), and leans up to kiss him, “I think that sounds perfect.”

 

* * *

 

**_February 15, 2020_ **

****

“Hey good news, T, the book says having weird dreams is totally normal,” Scott yells out towards the open door of the bathroom from his spot on the bed. He can hear Tessa moving around in there as she completes her bedtime routine, and he snuggles a little further into the blankets, “That dream you had last night about opening the fridge and finding the baby marinating inside? Totally fine.”

“I hardly think it was _fine_ , but it’s nice to know I’m not crazy,” She yells back before turning on the water to brush her teeth and Scott chuckles and flips to the pages on labor and delivery.

He knows this stuff backwards and forwards by now. Knows all about dilation and how to tell what phase of labor they’re in based on the contractions and what transitional labor is. He and Tess have perfected their birthing plan and given multiple copies to their doctor and all the nurses, as well as both of their mothers, just in case. Their bags are packed and waiting by the door, ready to go at any time. And they’ve spent the last four months in classes so that Tess can deliver naturally and he can be her coach.

But still, it never hurts to refresh his memory.

"Scott,” Tessa marches into the bedroom sounding as determined as he’s ever heard her, and he glances up from his book just in time to see her pulling her pajama shirt over her head and revealing her larger pregnancy breasts that he frankly can’t get enough of, even though she complains about their size nearly every day (“I hardly ever had to wear a bra before, Scott! Big boobs are so _annoying_.”)

“What?“

“We need to have sex,” She sticks her thumbs in the waistband of her sweatpants and pushes them to the floor, taking her underwear with her and leaving her gloriously naked, “Take your clothes off.”

“ _What_?” He tries again, struggling to keep up, but Tessa’s already tugging him up out of the bed and reaching for his own pajama pants, tugging on the strings and then shoving them down to his feet. “Uh, T, it’s not that I don’t want to, but what brought this on?”

Their sex life hasn’t diminished through her pregnancy, but the last month had been pretty difficult – mostly because finding a position that worked for Tess was getting pretty hard these days.

“I’m two days late now, Scott, and tomorrow morning it will be _three_ with no signs of anything progressing. Sex is another suggested way to induce labor and since nothing else is working I’m going to need you to fuck me,” She moves around him and climbs into the bed, clearly expecting him to follow, and he chuckles.

“Wow. How romantic.”

She positions herself on her side, maneuvering her giant U-shaped pregnancy pillow around so that it’s supporting her stomach and her top leg, and then looks back at him over her shoulder, “Romance has nothing to do with it. I am fat and exhausted and this baby clearly has no regard for my mental health because she’s just hanging out in there. _Incubating_. While I slowly go mad. So chop, chop! Get inside me.”

"Tess,” Scott laughs, climbing into the bed and scooting in close behind her, “You give me a lot of shit for my pick-up lines, but I gotta say, yours could use some work.”

He spoons her from behind and reaches up to gently tease one of her breasts, conscious of their increased sensitivity, and whispers in her ear with a teasing smile, “Is this the recommended position?”

“This is the _only_ position right now. I’m the size of a whale,” Tessa sasses, attempting to push her hips backwards into his.

“That’s not true. All-fours from behind has worked beautifully the past couple of months. And you are definitely not a whale. You’re gorgeous,” He punctuates the statement by leaning over her head so that he can kiss her, moving his mouth against hers slowly and building up both of their arousal levels by grinding into her ass.

For all her big talk, there won’t be any _fucking._ That would be a surefire way to cause her pain and put an end to this whole thing before it’s even had a chance to begin. They have to take everything very slowly. But Scott doesn’t mind. It’s nice to just focus on kissing her for a little bit.

In fact, Scott’s pretty confident he’ll never get tired of kissing Tessa. Her lips fit his perfectly and she makes the best little sounds. He could do it for hours and hours and never get bored.

“More,” Tessa eventually gasps, pulling her lips away. Clearly she has other ideas about how tonight is going to go because before he can prepare she’s got one hand behind her back, wrapping around his length and working him with an enthusiasm he hasn’t seen since her second trimester when she had, by her own admission, been horny as hell.

“What’s the rush?” He smirks and peppers kisses along her shoulder and down the top of her spine, and Tessa groans and squeezes him a little too tight in retaliation – making him buck his hips into her hand.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now? Baby. Late. Remember?”

“Sassy wives don’t get rewarded,” He tsks, kissing the crook of her neck with a loud smack of his lips, then laughs as he pulls away out of her reach so that he can kiss slowly down the rest of her spine.

“ _Scott!”_  Tessa cries out in frustration when he cups her from behind, pressing against her heat without really doing anything else, and he grins and bites her hip.

“Yes, _darling_?”

“If you don’t do something RIGHT NOW I swear to god I will dig out my old vibrator and take care of it myself.”

“Can you even reach that far?” He teases, laughing when she reaches back to lightly smack his shoulder.

She starts pulling away from him, meaning to make good on her threat, but Scott stops her with an arm around her waist – moving back up behind her so that he can replace his hand with his cock.

“Should we get some lube?” He murmurs against the side of her head, kissing her temple and playing with her breasts again as he slides his cock back and forth between her legs, gathering her wetness.

"No. I’ll be okay,” She nods a little wildly, “Please just-“

He slips inside, moving as slowly as he can to give her plenty of time to adjust and waiting for her little hum of assent before starting to pick up the pace.

It goes well at first and Scott starts to let himself slide into the headspace where the only thing that matters is their mutual release, when Tessa sucks in a sharp breath.

He freezes, instantly telling it apart from the noises of pleasure she usually makes, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” She replies, blowing out a long breath of air and trying to relax again, “She just kicked me in the lungs.”

“Should we stop?”

“No. Keep going,” Tessa nods and reaches around to dig her fingers in his hair, tugging on it just how he likes (it had taken a little while, but she’d finally forgiven him for cutting his hair back in December).

Scott starts moving again, gradually building up speed, but Tessa gasps loudly and tenses up.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop!”

He pulls out of her immediately, propping himself up on his elbow so that he can look at her, “T, what’s wrong?”

“This isn’t going to work. It hurts and she’s kicking me like _crazy_. Seriously, child,” She looks down, addressing her stomach, “What is your problem? Stop breaking my ribs and just be born already! It can’t be any more comfortable in there for you than it is for me!”

“Okay, come on,” Scott gets out of bed and reaches out for her with both hands, “Come with me.”

“I was _trying_ to,” She grumbles, her bottom lip jutting out adorably, and Scott chuckles and helps her stand up, “Where are we going?”

“Bathtub. She likes warm baths - they put her to sleep.”

Tessa beams at him as if he’d just told her he figured out how to solve world peace and throws her arms around his neck, “That is the best idea _ever_! I love you so much!”

"I love you, too,” He chuckles, returning the hug for a second before prying her arms away, “Come on.”

        

Scott gets to work filling up the large tub while Tessa lights all of her favorite candles, making the room smell like vanilla and roses, and he keeps a close eye on the temperature to make sure it’s only just warm enough. He knows she likes it to feel more like a hot tub when she’s not pregnant, but they can’t risk her overheating.

When he’s certain it’s just right, he gets in first and then holds out his hand, helping Tessa get situated between his legs.

“Try to relax,” He lightly traces her collarbones and shoulders and Tessa’s head falls back against him, her cheek pressed to the side of his jaw.

_"Scott,”_ She sighs and he moves his hands a little lower, tracing shapes into the top of her breasts, but avoiding her overly sensitive nipples, “We only have fifteen minutes, remember?”

"I know. Don’t think about that right now,” He whispers, dragging his fingers across every inch of her that he can reach. Fifteen minutes is all she’s allowed right now to make sure her blood circulation doesn’t increase too much and harm the baby, but he intends to take advantage of every second.

Scott moves his fingers down the outside of her arms and back up the inside, along her ribs – slowly counting each one, across her stomach - scratching her skin a little just how she likes it. He knows she been itching like crazy for the past few months as her stomach stretches much farther than it ever has before, and she’s been putting lotion on daily to try and prevent the inevitable stretch marks (even though he keeps reassuring her that he really doesn’t mind – she’s beautiful no matter what).

He continues on down over her thighs, reaching as far as he can before sliding his hands around and then running them up the inside achingly slow - caressing her soft skin, drawing swirling patterns, tracing the crevice where her thigh meets her center.

“ _Scott, please_ ,” She finally whimpers, her voice thick and raspy – the sound shooting straight to his dick.

“Spread your legs a bit more,” He whispers into her neck, leaning back a little to give them both more space to work around her stomach. “How do you want it, Tess?”

“Touch me.”

“ _How_?” He emphasizes. He wants this to feel good for her. Wants her to see fireworks and forget for a minute or two all of her discomforts and anxiety.

“My clit. Don’t,” She pauses, swallowing thickly before continuing, “Don’t put anything inside me. Just need your hand on my clit.”

“Okay,” He hums, dragging his nose and lips across her shoulder, and Tessa turns to find his mouth with her own.

The second their lips meet he strokes gently from her opening to her clit and back, and she shudders almost violently against him.

“Too much?” He asks, moving his fingers away to stroke her thighs again.

“No,” Tessa pants, leaning in to nip at his jaw, “No it was perfect. Keep going.”

He keeps kissing her as he moves his hand back, making a V around her clit with his index and middle fingers to avoid touching it directly and accidentally over-stimulating her. Based on the sounds she’s making into his mouth, it’s the perfect amount of pressure.

“I-I’m gonna-“ She stutters and then goes tense, her face the picture of ecstasy, and Scott mentally adds it to his list of orgasms he’s most proud of.

He finds her hands and plays with her fingers while Tessa goes boneless against him, until a few seconds later when her body tenses – her eyes screwing shut tight.

“T?” He asks in concern, waiting while she breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth, like she’d been taught, until the moment passes.

“Contraction?” He asks, excitement seeping into his voice.

_Maybe she was right and it worked!_

“Yeah,” She breathes, “I think so. Let’s get out of the tub so I can walk around for a bit.”

“Okay. Whatever you need,” He climbs out from behind her and makes sure he has a solid footing on the tile floor before helping her out, grabbing her robe while she has another small contraction.

“Should I be timing these?”

“No, not yet. Let’s wait and see what happens,” She sticks her arms out and lets him put her robe on, laughing a little when he swats her hands away and ties it himself before kissing her swiftly on the lips when she least expects it and making her laugh harder.

“Come on. I’ll read to you while you walk around.”

 

The contractions start to fade into mild cramping after fifteen minutes and by half-an-hour they’ve completely stopped, and Tessa sags onto the bed beside him with a defeated _harrumph_.

“This is bullshit.”

Scott sits up behind her and starts massaging her shoulders, working out the kinks she always seems to get next to her right shoulder blade, “I’m sorry, Tess. I wish there was something I could do.”

“She’s just kicking around in there, mocking me,” Tessa sighs deeply, sounding exasperated and one hundred percent done.

“I highly doubt our daughter is mocking you,” Scott chuckles, braiding her damp hair and tying it off so that it doesn’t get too tangled while she sleeps, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her spine when he’s done.

“Yes she is,” Tessa says petulantly, laying down on her side and pulling him along with her - burrowing as much as she can into her pillow and holding his hand tight to her chest.

Scott moves their joined hands down over the curve of her belly, intending to talk some sense into their daughter, but the second he places his hand over her stomach he receives a swift kick in return.

“See!?” Tessa shouts, waving her hand around wildly in the air in front of them, “She knows what she’s doing!”

He can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him. It certainly seems as if their daughter is a mischievous little thing, which is pretty much a guarantee that she’s his kid, “It’s going to be fine, Tess. She’ll come out when she’s ready.”

“Urgh! She’d better!”

 

* * *

         

**_February 16, 2020_ **

**_Kate Virtue’s Home, Ilderton, Ontario_ **

****

“So you’re still committed to this whole natural birth idea,” Kate asks as she cuts her chicken into carefully sized pieces and Scott nearly winces at the fire building in Tessa’s eyes.

Nearly four days past her due date, Tessa isn’t in the mood for any serious discussions, let alone rehashing the same old argument she and her mother have been having for the past four months. Ever since she and Scott had signed up for classes on The Bradley Method of childbirth and committed to a natural birth without medical intervention as much as possible.

Honestly, the idea had seemed insane to Scott too when Tessa had first suggested it, but he’d quickly come around to her point of view. She’s already taking an oral low-dose of aspirin to prevent clots, and subcutaneous injections of prophylactic dose heparin, as well as calcium and vitamin D supplements. All in addition to her regular pre-natal vitamins. That, combined with more frequent check-ups than the average pregnant woman usually needs, meant that Tessa had come to him during her fifth month of pregnancy prepared with a whole stack of information about how and why she was committing to going without an epidural or any other drug during labor.

“Yes, Mom,” Tessa replies through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to take any risks of something going wrong with the epidural, and natural is better for the baby. There’s also a quicker recovery time for me.”

“Yes, but Tessa, I don’t think you’ve considered the pain,” Kate insists, helping herself to another glass of wine while Tessa watches her with envy.

Scott reaches surreptitiously under the table and finds his wife’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers and not feeling at all surprised when Tessa grips him like a vice in return.

“I can handle it. The whole point of all the classes Scott and I have taken is to learn how to manage the pain and learn techniques for relaxation. Scott is going to be my coach through the whole thing.”

“Scott!?” Kate sits back in surprise, then quickly tries to cover her mistake by taking another sip of her drink.

Things had been getting better between them through Kate’s genuine efforts to reconcile ever since Tessa’s return to Ilderton. In fact, Scott would say most of the time they’re pretty cordial with each other, but every once in a while Kate’s old doubts about him slip through.

It hardly hurts his feelings anymore, but nothing makes Tessa angrier, faster.

“Yes, Scott! He’s the most supportive husband ever and an amazing coach. Which isn’t really a surprise given that it’s kind of his _career_.”

“I’m sure he is, honey,” Kate amends gently, smiling at both of them before addressing him directly, “Scott, I know you’ve been wonderful and I have no doubts about your coaching skills. But don’t you think this is risky?”

“Tessa’s done a lot of research, Kate,” Scott replies confidently, “If she says she can do it, then I believe in her. I’m here to help any way she wants me to.”

“Yes, but-“

“Mom,” Tessa interrupts her, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to find her patience before continuing, “Epidurals slow down labor and make it less efficient. And I hate the idea that I wouldn’t be able to feel what’s going on in my own body. Plus, without an epidural I can move around and have more control of the process, and the best part is it keeps medications out of our baby. She’ll be more alert and active when she’s born.”

“I believe you, honey,” Kate finally nods, pursing her lips, and Scott can tell she wants to say more. But he knows she cares more about maintaining their relationship and he’s almost proud of her when she says, “If that’s what you really want, then I support you.”

"I just want a healthy baby,” Tessa sighs, “Whatever it takes. If she would just _arrive_.”

“Well, maybe we can coax her out with some of my chocolate pie. What do you say?” Kate smiles, standing up and clearing their plates away.

“Sure, Mom. That sounds great.”  

 

* * *

 

**_February 18, 2020_ **

****

Scott smiles at the loud, raucous display surrounding him. He and Tess had invited all of their friends over for dinner (partially to distract her from going another day without labor) and they'd had to break out the extra leaf for their dining table just to fit everyone. 

It's crazy and a little crowded and wonderful. He has to take a second to catch his breath.

All those years alone. Who would have thought someday he’d have all this?

His eyes find Tessa’s at the other end of the table and he smiles softly at her.

She quirks her head, silently asking _what’s up?_ And he shakes his head infinitesimally, just smiling a little wider at her and soaking in her appearance. 

For all her complaints about her stomach and her heartburn and her swollen ankles (all of which are valid), he’s never found her more beautiful. She’s practically glowing.

“We have an announcement,” Eric taps the side of his wine glass with his knife, forcing everyone to stop talking and pay attention, “As you all know, last weekend Luis and I celebrated Valentine's Day at Niagara Falls, and while we were there he agreed to make me the happiest man on earth. We’re getting married!”

A chorus of cheers and congratulations breaks out and Scott reaches over to clap Eric on the back and give him a huge smile. “That’s great man! I’m so happy for you!”

“I want to hear everything,” Liz exclaims, leaning over the table a little and propping her chin up on her hands – stars in her eyes. She’s probably the most hopeless romantic out of their whole group. “How did you ask? Where? What did he say? Have you guys picked a date yet?”

“Probably not for a while. We want it to be perfect,” Luis answers her last question first, taking Eric’s hand and smiling at his new fiancé.

Suddenly quiet sniffles can be heard and everyone stops to look down the table at Tessa, whose bright green eyes are shining with tears.

“Tess, are you _crying_?” Eric asks in surprise, scooting out of his chair and rushing around the table to her.

“Yes,” She sniffs again, wiping her cheeks, “I can’t help it.”

Eric throws an arm over her shoulder, tucking her into his side and smiling, “That’s so sweet. You big softie.”

“Aww, thanks Boss,” Luis adds, but Tessa shakes her head.

“No. I _literally_ can’t help it. I’m a walking faucet these days,' She shrugs helplessly and Eric hugs her a little tighter. 

Scott nods and mutters, “It’s true,” under his breath, earning a glare from Tessa and a smothered laugh from Chiddy.

“But I am so happy for you both. It’s great that something so wonderful came out of my terrible decision.”

"That’s true,” Eric shrugs, leaning in to kiss Tessa on the cheek, “It might be wrong to say it, but I for one am very grateful that you moved to Montreal, because if you hadn’t I never would have met Luis.”

It’s nice, Scott thinks as everyone gets up to move to the living room where it’s more comfortable, a year and a half ago – hell, six months ago – any joking about Montreal would have been incredibly painful, but while he’ll probably always feel a pang in his heart about that time period in their lives, it doesn’t sting like it used to.

With a home together, a baby on the way, and plans to renew their vows in April, combined with a lot of therapy, Scott finally feels completely doubt-free about Tessa and their life together.

They’re happy. Incandescently happy.

Well, usually. Maybe not right at this second as Tessa struggles to sit down on the couch – practically falling into the cushions. Mostly she's just irritated. 

“How much longer, do you think?” Liz asks kindly, helping Tessa get her legs propped up so that her ankles are elevated.

“Forever,” Tessa groans, “I keep telling Scott this baby is never coming out, but he doesn’t believe me.”

“Well that’s a horrifying thought,” Eric says, earning a glare from both Scott and Tessa, “It has felt like you’ve been pregnant for over a year,” Eric adds, and Scott hits him for the second time that night.

_Bolster!_ He mouths at him, then at Chiddy too for good measure.

“You’re amazing, Tess,” Chiddy rushes to chime in, “You look still look stunning.”

“Yeah, I’d do you,” Eric grins and Scott slaps his hand over his face with a groan.

“Tess, our friends are idiots.”

Tessa laughs loudly, which makes Scott drop his hand and smile. It’s getting harder for her to find her sense of humor with each day that passes.

“Does the doctor have any suggestions?” Luis asks, resting lightly on the arm of the couch next to Eric and taking his hand.

“No! I’ve tried everything I can find,” Tessa bemoans, “Nothing is working."

"Maybe if we all pick you up we can shake the baby out,” Eric suggests and then it’s Chiddy’s turn to slug him on the shoulder.  

"This is why you failed biology." 

“How late can you go before they’ll induce you?” Liz asks, placing her hand on Chiddy’s knee and preventing him from harassing Eric any further.

Scott swears, sometimes it feels like they all become kids again when they get together.

He kind of loves it.  

“Forty-two weeks,” Tessa groans, sagging backwards further into the couch cushions, “So I still have about nine days before they’ll take action.”

“But we’re really hoping to avoid that,” Scott says, “Pitocin isn’t really something we want to have to use. It makes labor a lot harder.”

“Okay,” Eric draws out, leaning away from Tessa with an exaggerated motion, “That’s enough labor talk for me, thanks.”

“You’re juvenile,” Tessa pokes him hard in the ribs, and Eric rubs the spot with a groan.

“Rude, Tess. I’m older than you.”

“And yet you’ve never acted like it,” She throws back with a smirk and everyone laughs.

“Ouch. Come on, I have an idea,” Eric stands up and reaches out for Tessa, helping her to her feet, “We’re going for a walk to get your mind off it and maybe encourage that little trouble-maker to join us out here.”

“Ooh! Let’s go caroling!” Liz suggests, bouncing eagerly off the couch with a level of enthusiasm that would put a cheerleader to shame and pulling Chiddy up after her.

“It’s February!” Chiddy groans, but follows his wife anyway.  

"So? Tess could use a little fun," Liz replies and Eric grins at her. 

“That’s the spirit, Lizzie! Let’s go to that old sheriff’s house,” Eric drags Tessa by the hand down the hallway towards all of their boots and coats, forcing everyone else to follow them.

“And remind him just how much he hated us?” Tessa asks, waiting patiently for Scott to grab her coat out of the hall closet and help put it on.

“Why not?” Eric shrugs and grins mischievously, “He probably doesn’t even remember us. Well, except you, Tess. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.”

He winks and Tessa groans, turning bright red at the memory, and everybody laughs and tumbles out of the door.

“You sure you’re up for this, T?” Scott asks quietly, taking her by the elbow and holding her back for a second. She has a tendency to get caught up in the challenge of things, without pausing to think if it’s necessarily the smartest decision. Especially when it’s Eric and Chiddy doing the riling.

“Yeah. Maybe Eric’s rendition of Jingle Bells will give our baby the boost she needs – just so she can escape the noise.”

Scott laughs, tucking her hair underneath her warm hat and making sure her ears are properly covered, “Good point. Let's go.”

 

* * *

        

**_February 20, 2020_ **

**_London Health Science Birthing Center, London, Ontario_ **

****

“Come on, Tess, you can do it. Just a bit more. You’re doing so good,”

Thirteen hours of labor and they’re _so close._ Tessa’s glassy green eyes find his, her sweaty hair plastered to her forehead, her cheeks flushed bright red with the effort of bringing their daughter into the world, and Scott thinks he’s never loved her more than he does in this exact moment.

In the end it hadn’t been anything special that instigated labor. Tessa had woken up that morning to find that her water had broken and it soon became evident that her contractions weren’t Braxton Hicks, but the genuine thing. They’d labored at home for as long as they could for Tessa’s comfort, then about ten hours into it Alma had driven them to the hospital for the delivery.  

Now Scott’s got an arm looped underneath one of Tessa’s knees and a nurse is holding onto the other one to help give her added support as she pushes and her hand clamps tightly around his own with each contraction.

“Just one more push and we’re there, Tessa,” Dr. Lovett smiles encouragingly and Tessa’s eyes screw shut as she grunts loudly, nearly breaking Scott’s hand with the effort, and Scott tears his eyes away from her face just in time to see Dr. Lovett maneuvering their tiny baby around, the purple cord trailing after her, and the little wails bring instant tears to Scott’s eyes.

"She’s here, Tess. Our girl is here,” He says in wonder, finding it hard to speak as Dr. Lovett makes quick work of tying off the umbilical cord and snipping it while Tessa tugs her hospital gown away from her chest, leaving plenty of room for the doctor to place her gently over her heart.

Scott can hardly believe what he's seeing, blinking rapidly at the tears that threaten to cloud his vision.

She’s _here._

There are still some trace amounts of vernix on her pink skin and she has a precious layer of thin, silky dark hair, and her eyes are shut tight against the bright lights as she cries a little, until the combination of one of the nurses dimming the lights and Tessa’s quiet whispers soothe her.

You hear a lot about the clichés of how gross birth can be, but Scott can only marvel at the miracle of it all. She’s here and she’s healthy and he’s a _dad_.

“Hi there, baby girl, it’s me, your mommy, and this is your daddy,” Tessa murmurs quietly, nuzzling their daughter’s head with her lips, and Scott reaches out and takes his little girl’s hand for the first time, amazed at the way her slender little fingers wrap around his index finger and hold on so tightly.

She’s cracked her eyes open just a little bit, revealing the dark blue that Scott knows will eventually change, looking right at him, and he chokes back a sob. He can’t wait to see whose eyes she gets.

“Hello there, Alisa Jane. Welcome to the world. Your mother and I love you so much,” He leans in close and kisses her so, so gently. Breathing in that brand new baby smell and memorizing every detail about this moment that he can.

“She perfect, Scott,” Tessa chokes, tears running down her cheeks, and Scott knows his expression must mirror hers. Full of love and wonderment in equal measure. “How did we ever make something so perfect?”

“You were amazing, Tess. I’ve never been so proud of you in my life. I love you. Thank you so much,” He leans in and kisses her, trying to pour every ounce of what he’s feeling into one quick kiss.

_You’re so strong._

_I’m so happy._

_Thank you, thank you, thank you._

“Tessa, we need to deliver the placenta now. Scott, if you want to take the baby for a minute,” Dr. Lovett quietly interrupts them, obviously still focused on the practicalities of delivery that he and Tessa have completely forgotten in their joy.

The nurse takes Alisa from Tessa and wraps her up in a warm blanket with a little pink and blue beanie and places her gently in Scott’s arms, and he starts crying all over again as he stares into the beautiful eyes of his little girl.

Later the nurse will tell them that she weighs eight pounds, twelve ounces, is twenty inches long, and has an excellent Apgar score, but it will all only confirm what he already knows – their daughter is perfect in every way.

 

Hours later, when he and Tess are finally alone - after the lactation specialist has come and walked Tessa through the first feeding and taught her how to get a proper latch – they snuggle up on the bed together. Scott has his arms around Tess, careful not to jostle her too much, as she holds Alisa close in her arms.

“Thank you,” Scott murmurs again, kissing Tessa’s temple, and she manages to tear her gaze away from their daughter to look at him.

“For what?”

“For everything. You, the both of you, are the most important things in the world to me. I’m so grateful.”

“I’m so grateful for you too, Scott.”

Tessa tilts her chin up for a kiss and he happily obliges her.

There have been many days that Scott thought were the best ones in his life. Meeting Tessa, kissing her for the first time under the mistletoe so many Christmases ago, the first time they had sex when he turned eighteen, their wedding day, the day she returned and promised anew to love him forever, but this one far and away surpasses all of them.

He has a wonderful life, a wife he loves, and now a precious new daughter whose very name reflects the happiness they feel.

This day definitely tops them all.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name Alisa means "great happiness" in Hebrew.


	7. December 23, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of domesticity and some Christmas sex, because why not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays from me and Scott, Tessa, and Alisa Moir.

** here comes santa claus **

****

**_December 23, 2020_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

****

There’s a loud thunk as Tessa lets her head fall down onto her desk with a groan. The emails staring back at her from her computer screen are giving her the rather serious urge to toss the entire machine out of their second story window out into the piles of snow below.

Of course. Of course they had to have a disaster right before Christmas.

Part of Marie’s warehouse in Montreal had flooded thanks to a burst drain pipe, and Tessa’s been up since two in the morning trying to order replacements for all the fabric they’ve lost, figure out what pieces where ruined and what it would take to repair or remake them, as well as coordinate with the plumber, a clean-up crew, and one of their employees to meet them onsite since Marie’s out of town on vacation with Patrice and Billie-Rose.

It’s been a never-ending headache and she would very much like to curl up in bed and never look at the screen or answer another call again.

Somewhere downstairs she can hear Christmas music and the faint scent of something baking wafts in through her open office door, enticing her to leave behind the messy world of fashion for a few minutes and track down the source of both temptations.

_Just a short break. Just to clear my head. Then I’ll get back to work_.

Stepping carefully around the baby toys on the ground, she grabs a balled-up diaper she’d forgotten to throw away that morning from off the floor and tosses it into the trash before heading downstairs.

Although not without struggling with the baby gate first. Alisa’s started crawling recently so it’s a necessity, but she can never seem to get it open on the first try. Scott’s given up entirely and merely steps over the damn thing, but she’s not quite tall enough to do that without risking falling down the stairs. For a safety feature, it certainly is a hazard.

She follows the Christmas music into the kitchen and finds Scott holding a big spoon like a microphone, singing Jingle Bell Rock at top volume while Alisa laughs at him from her seat in her purple Bumbo on the counter. Her little giggles never fail to make Tessa’s heart feel light, and she feels better already now that she’s joined them.

Scott’s done her dark curls up in lopsided pigtails with red tinsel and Tessa can’t help but laugh quietly to herself. That’s definitely going on Instagram. The world (that is to say, her small collection of followers) deserves to know that Scott Moir likes to decorate his daughter’s hair for the holidays.

She can see a tray of cookies in the oven as well as a good portion of dough rolled onto the counter with a half dozen shapes cut out of it, and there’s still a large bowl of cookie dough on the counter. He’s making sugar cookies, and enough to feed the whole neighborhood, apparently. He’ll probably want to deliver them together as a family and sing carols.

_The things I do for this man_ , she thinks affectionately.

The song hits that last line and Scott throws his head back and belts it out like a rock star, “That’s the jingle bell ROCK!” and Tessa bursts out laughing, giving away her presence.

Scott jumps in surprise and then chuckles, his cheeks turning a little pink at having been caught, “Um… Hi, T.”

“Rehearsing for your next karaoke performance?”

“Gotta keep it fresh. Never know when I might need to bust out those skills,” He winks and then twists the Bumbo around so that Alisa can see her, “Mommy’s done working, Lissa-Lou! Should we show her what we’ve been up to?”  

"No good, I’m sure,” Tessa grins, walking over to kiss Scott on the lips before scooping their daughter up out of the chair and smothering her adorable round cheeks with kisses. Nuzzling her neck in that way that always makes her squirm and giggle. This is exactly what she needed – a reminder of what’s most important.

“We’ve been making cookies so that we can take them to all the neighbors tonight,” Scott tells her as he takes the tray out of the oven and replaces it with another one, confirming her suspicions.

“And I suppose you’ll be expecting me to sing?”

“Of course. Unless you want me to do a solo act.”

“Depends… will you bring the spoon?”

“Mmhmm, and the whisk for you,” He hands the utensil over to her just as Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree comes on the radio, and Tessa plays along – holding it up to her mouth and singing along with him.

“Rockin' around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop!” She hops on the last word, making Alisa laugh, and that’s enough to convince her and Scott to turn it into a full blown kitchen dance party – swinging her around the room as they both sing at top volume, neither of them particularly caring if they hit all the right notes.

The next song is a calmer instrumental arrangement and Scott pulls them both into his arms so they can do a make-shift sort of slow dance, dropping kisses to the top of both girls' heads.

“This is nice,” Tessa hums, “Much better then dealing with plumbers a province away.”

“I’m sorry about all that. I wish I could help. Did you get it taken care of?”

“Mostly. The rest of it can wait. I’d much rather be down here with both of you,” She snuggles a little further into his chest, adjusting her arms to leave plenty of room so that Alisa isn’t squished, and Scott holds her a little tighter.

“We’d much rather have you down here too.”

Tessa tilts her chin up for a kiss and Scott happily obliges – that is until Alisa puts her sticky hand on their faces and starts babbling something, making them both laugh as they break apart.

“Were you feeling left out, Lissa-Lou?” He kisses her on the cheek with a loud _smack_ and the little girl giggles and tries to bat him away with her chubby hands.

The oven beeps loudly and Scott moves to swap out the cookies again, asking Tessa over his shoulder, “What had you screaming so happily last night? I know it wasn’t me, because I was putting Lis to bed.”

His smile is full of mischief and Tessa shakes her head and rolls her eyes, bouncing Alisa on her hip to the beat of Here Comes Santa Claus, “Kaitlyn called. She’s finally decided to move to Waterloo with Andrew.”

“I thought they broke up when she decided not to do the whole long distance thing? Here, taste this,” Scott furrows his brow, popping a spoonful of frosting into her mouth.

“It’s good, but maybe more vanilla?” She suggests, swirling the creamy frosting around her mouth with her tongue, “They did but then he showed up in Montreal with a ring and said he didn’t want to do _any_ distance. I guess that convinced her.”

“Wait, so she’s moving _and_ they’re getting married?” Scott huffs in surprise, “That’s a big change.”

It’s not so crazy compared to her and Scott’s history. In fact, it’s really quite tame by comparison, but Tessa keeps that thought to herself and purses her lips to try not to laugh when she drops the biggest bomb of all, “Yep! They’re going to elope and get married on New Year’s Day. Oh, by the way, we’re going to be their witnesses so we’ll be going out of town next week.”

“Hang on,” Scott freezes with the cookie cutter still pressed into the dough, pressing one hand to his heart as if he’s in shock, “I think I need to sit down.”

Tessa laughs at his ridiculous behavior and he grins at her, looking just as pleased with himself as he always does when he makes her laugh. It never seem to grow old for him, and she loves it.

She starts to prepare a bottle one-handed so that she can put Alisa down for her afternoon nap and tells him her other piece of news, “Also, I talked about something interesting with Liz yesterday. She and Chiddy have started trying to get pregnant and she asked me for advice.”

“What did you tell her?” Scott gets back to work cutting out the rest of the dough, but tilts his head towards her so that she knows he’s listening and paying attention.

“That I was the wrong person to ask how to get pregnant on purpose,” Tessa jokes and then it’s his turn to laugh, saying something like, “Oh ho! Don’t remind me,” as he bends over the counter to reach the cookie cutter shaped like a stocking.

Tessa watches him work for a minute while shaking the bottle, debating with herself. She’s been thinking about their own family situation lately, and she wants to broach the topic with him, but she’s not quite sure how he’s going to take it. It’s pretty fair to say they’ve had a lot of upheavals in the last two years, and it’s entirely possible he won’t want any other changes for a long time.

“But it got me thinking,” She hesitates, keeping her eyes trained on his face to catch anything he might give away by his expression, “I don’t want to have four year gaps between our kids. I’m going to be thirty-two next year and if we wait another three years there won’t be time to have more than two, not unless I want to be pregnant at forty.”

Scott puts the last cookie cut-out on the tray, ready to go in the oven, and looks up at her – nothing but open curiosity written on his face, “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying… let’s make a plan this time. I think we should try to get pregnant again next year. Alisa should be two when the baby is born, so it’s less of a gap for her, which I think would be nice. And that way I’m not putting my body through quite so much struggle by waiting until I’m older, since I’m already high-risk thanks to the APS, and then we have a better chance of having more than two kids,” She rushes to get all of her words out, berating herself for not writing down her thoughts in a neat and succinct way before attempting to talk about this with him.

“Do _you_ want more than two kids, Tess? Or even more than one kid? I know that’s what we’ve talked about, but I don’t want you to rush into something if it’s not what you want, too,” Scott says slowly, walking towards her and rubbing his hands up and down her arms – soothing her nerves and helping her breathe steady again.

“I’m sure. This is what I want.”

“Then I’m in, T,” Scott grins, “Just say the word and my dick is at your disposal.”

“Scott!” Tessa shouts, clapping her hand over Alisa’s ear as best she can while still holding the bottle, “Don’t say dick in front of our baby.”

“Tess… she’s ten months old. She doesn’t know-“

“Da!” Alisa reaches out, the word clear and distinct from her usual stream of babble, and both Tessa and Scott go still.

“Oh my god,” Tessa stares at her and then Scott in horror, “Please don’t tell me our baby’s first word is-“

“Da!” She tries again and reaches out with both hands for Scott.

He stares at her, completely bewildered, but then breaks out in a huge smile as realization dawns on his face and he pulls Alisa out of Tessa’s arms and into his own, “She’s not saying dick, she’s saying Dad!”

“Da,” Alisa says for a third time, sounding content and laying her head on Scott’s shoulder, and he looks absolutely enamored. As if he’s seeing her for the first time.

“Her first word is Dad,” He whispers, and Tessa can see the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, “That’s going in her baby book. Write it down. December twenty-third.”

It feels like one of those _moments_ , and the three of them stand there quietly for a minute – both Tessa and Scott marveling anew at their daughter. She’s not jealous that her first word was Dad – it’s easier for babies to say than the harder M sounds for mom – and the look on Scott’s face is enough that it makes her want to pull out her phone and record it so they have it forever.

“I’ll put her down,” Scott finally says, reaching for the bottle, “You keep an eye on the cookies.”

Tessa watches them go, smiling to herself and texting Jordan and her mom about the good news, chuckling when she hears Scott yells back at her.

“Don’t let them burn!”

 

\-------

 

Later that night, after they’ve finished delivering cookies and Tessa’s sworn never to sing in public again (she knows Scott will get her out there again next year, but it’s the principle of the thing), they snuggle up on the couch in front of the fireplace, the lights from the Christmas tree in the corner twinkling and adding an extra glow to the room.

Babcock snoozes at their feet, never far from Alisa – who he seems to have claimed as his ward in need of protection, and Tessa curls up next to Scott while he reads _Twas the Night Before Christmas_ out loud to her.

The little girl hangs onto his every word, one little dimpled hand clenched around his thumb while the other one presses against the page – pointing out shapes and pictures in her little gibberish language only she knows.

She loves being read to, especially by Scott, and Tessa does too. His voice is low and soothing and Tessa rests her head on his shoulder and lets it wash over her until she can feel herself dozing – not even noticing when his voice tapers off and comes to a stop sometime during his third or fourth book.

“Tess,” He whispers, nudging her awake, and Tessa blinks her eyes open slowly.

Alisa is snuggled up in his arms, holding onto her favorite blankie – an impossibly soft pink thing with blue and yellow stars on it that was a gift from Alma – and sleeping peacefully.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” She sits up and stretches, her back popping loudly in a few places.

“Yes, that was very naughty of you,” Scott teases, shifting Alisa in his arms a little so that he can stand, reaching out for her with his free hand, “Let’s go upstairs.”

He kisses her on her cheek at the top of the stairs and goes to put Alisa to bed while Tessa walks lazily towards their bedroom and gets ready for bed.

 

 

“Ta-Da!” Scott steps out from the walk-in closet with a Santa hat on his head, the white fuzzy bauble flopping pathetically to the side as he models it for her.

"Where did you get that?" Tessa laughs.

"I bought it to wear Christmas morning. What do you think?"  

“I don’t think Santa just hangs out in just his hat and his boxers,” Tessa replies jokingly, eyeing him up and down and blatantly appreciating his body. Scott gives his hips an extra little wiggle when he catches her noticing, and she laughs.

“He probably does, actually. He and Mrs. Claus have been together a _long_ time. We’re talking centuries, here, there must be something about him that makes her stay.”

“Ew! Gross, Scott! I don’t want to think about Santa having sex,” Tessa shudders and tries to banish the image out of her head just as quickly as it appeared.  

“What about Santa Scott having sex?” He asks with a lopsided grin, sauntering over towards the bed.

“Lose the hat and then I’ll consider it.”

"Tell me, Mrs. Moir, have you been nice this year, or _naughty_?”

“That is the cheesiest thing you have ever said,” She rolls over to put her book away on the nightstand and shouts in surprise when he smacks her ass, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough that she knows it’s going to turn bright pink.

“Naughty it is then,” He says, his voice dripping with promise and his eyes full of sin, “Take off your shirt and roll over onto your stomach.”

“We have to be quiet,” She reminds him, even as she follows his command and gets into position - raising her hips so that he can drag her pajama pants down her legs and toss them aside. He surprises her by leaving her underwear in place, tugging a little on the waistband, but otherwise not moving it. Any trace of exhaustion dissipates as she waits in anticipation for his next move.

“I’ve got the monitor turned up full volume. She’ll be fine, Tess.” He stands at the foot of the bed and Tessa glances over her shoulder at him, not surprised to find him staring at her ass.

“I’m just saying, don’t wake her up.”

“I think it’s _you_ being too loud that we’re going to have to worry about,” Scott says, his hands roaming over her back, connecting a few of her freckles and tracing the dip in her spine before moving over her waist and down the back of her thighs.

Tessa’s skin breaks out into goosebumps and she sags a little deeper into the mattress. His gentle touch could have her asleep in seconds if it weren’t for the intent behind it. As it is, she’s left with a trail of fire in the wake of his fingers that keeps her alert and eager.

Scott starts massaging her calves and feet, digging in particularly hard on her arches where it often aches after a long day wearing heels, and she moans.

“That feels so nice,” Her voice is muffled a little bit by her head resting on her arms, and she shifts a little so that he can hear her clearly when she says, “I thought I’d been naughty?”

“All in due time. It’s _my_ list, remember?”

Nevertheless, he stops massaging her feet to move his hands back up to her ass – pressing his thumbs briefly against her center through the thin cotton panties before kneading both cheeks and making her moan into the pillow.

There's definitely no risk of her falling asleep now. The sensation of his hands on her ass, broken up periodically by his brief explorations of her center, has her desire simmering under the surface and her heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I love your ass,” Scott murmurs, mostly to himself, and Tessa laughs.

“You don’t say?”

“Cheeky,” He chastises her, taking his hands away as punishment, but Tessa can’t resist the pun.

“Why, yes, I am,” She wiggles her butt a little to tease him until a loud smack, accompanied by a pleasant stinging sensation, has her gasping in pleasant surprise.

“Naughty girls get punished, Tess,” Scott says, rubbing the spot with his hand and soothing the pain away before giving the other side of her ass the same treatment.

He continues on, moving back and forth between each cheek until Tessa feels like her whole body is on fire and she’s grinding mindlessly into the mattress – desperate for any sort of friction she can find.

“Scott, _please_ , I need-“

“What do you need, T?” He grabs the waistband and tugs on it so that it’s pressed tight against her, and she whimpers.

“Something. _Anything_. Please touch me or fuck me or anything you want. I just need to come.”

Scott flips her over onto her back and shoves her thighs apart so that he can settle his head between her legs, clamping his mouth on top of her clit over her underwear and sucking her through the damp fabric.

Tessa reaches out and grabs the hat off his head, tossing it to the side so that she can get a good grip on his hair, and Scott pulls away and frowns at her.

“Hey, that’s mine.”

“It was in my way,” She grunts, using her grip on his hair to guide him back where she wants him, and he goes willingly. Working her through the fabric like his life depends on it, until she’s practically grinding on his face from beneath him.

She’s almost there. _Just a little bit more_. But then suddenly he’s pulling away – lifting off of her completely – and Tessa sits up with a start, desperately reaching out for him.

“No! What are you doing? You can’t stop now!”

“Naughty girls don’t get presents, Tess. You know that,” He winks and starts to move to turn out the light, as if they’re just going to go to bed now even though she’s so keyed up she could spontaneously combust and she can see him tenting his boxers, but there’s no way in hell she’s letting him leave her like this.

“So help me Scott if you don’t get back here this second you will never have sex with me again.”

"I highly doubt that-“ He laughs, but stops when he sees her glare and gulps nervously, “Noted. I’m coming.”

He drops his boxers and flips the light so that the only light in the room comes from their little mini Christmas tree on top of the dresser, nearly tripping over himself as he hurries to get back to her.

“Not until I come first,” She shoves her underwear away and tugs him down onto the bed beside her, climbing over him and straddling his waist.

Tessa grabs his cock and positions him at her opening, swirling her hips around a little to tease him, and Scott’s hands fly to her waist as he tries to thrust into her.

“Now who’s a tease?” He groans, abandoning her hips to play with her breasts when he realizes she isn’t going to let him take control.

“Get a condom. We’re not trying for another baby _just_ yet,” Tessa commands, lifting off him just enough to give him room to twist around and retrieve the package from the drawer.  

“Yes ma’am,” He hands it to her and she grins.

Tessa pumps him a few times before putting it on and sinking down onto him in one smooth motion, both of them moaning at the feeling. For her, it’s that delicious stretch and fullness that she craves, and reconnecting in that most basic way. It’s amazing how this never gets old, no matter how many times they do it.

She hopes it’s always like this.

Tessa leans forward over him so that Scott can suck on one of her nipples while she grinds against slowly against him, drawing it out until she can tell he’s right on the edge – his hands probably leaving bruises on her ribs where they’re holding on so tight.

She ducks her head and runs her tongue up the side of his neck, tugging on his earlobe with her teeth and making his hips jerk before murmuring, “Have you been naughty or nice, Scott?”

"N-N-Nice?” He stutters, his voice high and desperate.

“Hmm, I don’t think so. You haven’t made me come yet. That’s not very nice,” She means for it to be light and teasing, but apparently she’d driven him too close to the edge because Scott quickly flips them – pulling one of her legs up so that it’s propped on his shoulder and he’s hitting her at a new angle, dragging a low moan out of her as her eyes roll back into her head.

“I’ll show you nice,” He grunts, thrusting into her at an impossible pace, “Touch yourself.”

The command shoots straight to her core and Tessa obeys him immediately, reaching between them to rub at her clit, and all it takes is two more thrusts before she’s coming – her back arching off the bed as stars explode between her eyes and her brain fills with pleasant white noise.

She can feel Scott pump into her a few more times before he joins her over the edge, coming with a violent shudder and burying his head into the crook of her neck – his weight landing solidly on top of her, just how she likes.

She strokes her fingers through his hair while waiting to catch her breath, and eventually Scott props himself up on his elbows so that he can kiss her and pull out.

Once he’s disposed of the condom he climbs back into bed and pulls the blankets over them.

“Tess,” He whispers in her ear, and she hums – sated and already falling asleep, “Can I be the little spoon?”

She laughs and rolls over, throwing her arm over his waist and burrowing in close, “Goodnight, Scott.”

“Goodnight, Tess. Merry Christmas Adam.”

She smiles against him at the silly term and drifts off to sleep with him in her arms, content and blissfully happy.

        


	8. August 7, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric's wedding! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. The holiday season was super busy for me and work has gotten crazy (and will only get crazier with the new year!) so my writing schedule has been a bit up in the air. I'll try not to go so long between chapters though, now that Christmas etc. is over.

**(ding dong ding) i can hear the chapel bell chime**

 

**_August 7, 2021_ **

**_Lake Louise, Alberta_ **

 

“Who do you think will win La Liga this year?”

Scott tugs at the sleeves of his suit as he waits for the music to begin, watching as people start taking their seats out on the wooden deck. Behind him he can hear the rest of the wedding party milling about and doing final checks on their outfits. Tessa is still upstairs fixing Lissa’s hair, so he's been left to his own devices (swearing a solemn oath not to muss up his own hair as he waits). 

“Real Madrid, of course,” The man next to him replies in a thick Spanish accent. Javier Fernandez, one of Luis’s close friends and Scott’s soon-to-be-partner walking down the aisle. Eric and Luis had each picked three people to be their groomsmen (or groomspeople, as Tessa likes to remind them), and then paired them up, and Scott rather likes the energetic Spaniard he’s gotten to know over the past few days. He'd been the only one willing to duet  _Dream On_ with him at the bachelor party/karaoke night, so that pretty much gets him a gold star in Scott's book. 

“You think? Barcelona will be itching to make a comeback after coming in third to Atlético Madrid last year.”

“Barça are formidable opponents and worthy rivals, but I have faith in my team,” Javi lifts the cross around his neck to kiss it before tucking it back inside his shirt, and Scott chuckles.

“Loyalty. I respect that. It’s how I somehow manage to keep supporting the Leafs every year.”

“They might actually have a chance this season, I hear,” Javi replies, turning around to wave at Adrián, one of Luis’ other groomsmen, as he chatters away with Chiddy on the other side of the waiting room.

“You watch hockey?” Scott asks, curiosity piqued. He enjoys a good soccer match and loves playing it even more, but hockey is where his heart truly lies.

“Now that I live in Canada it is mandatory, of course,” Javi laughs, “But I am afraid you will not like to hear that I support the Montreal Canadiens.”

Scott grimaces and pretends to gag, “Well, there’s no accounting for taste.”

Javi laughs harder as he sips from his glass of lemon water, nodding in agreement, “Sí, no podemos estar todos bien.”

“What are we talking about?”

Scott turns around to find Tessa walking up to them, looking amazing in her black suitcoat-turned-dress thing that he’s certain she must know the proper name of, but that he only calls _hot_ inside his head. It makes her legs look miles long as they stretch down to her black heels and nearly manages to conceal her growing baby bump (although not quite).

When Eric had asked them, along with Chiddy, to be his groomsmen Tessa had been delighted and then immediately set to work coming up with ideas for how her outfit would match the men, but if you ask Scott the reality is that she far surpasses them.

Tessa hands him Alisa, the little girl’s brown curls (much closer to Tessa’s natural shade than his own) now perfectly styled under her flower crown, and Scott happily accepts the bundle of white tulle that has become his daughter. Her bright hazel eyes look up at him as she smiles and wraps her arms around his neck, and Scott feels a rush of warmth inside his chest.

She’s still roly-poly and loves cuddling and sleeps in a crib, but she can also say quite a few words and run and throw tennis balls at Babcock, and Scott wishes for just one moment that he could freeze time. Just slow it down a little so that it doesn’t fly by so quickly. It seems like only yesterday she was still a tiny baby.

“We were talking about sports,” Scott tells Tessa before pointing out of the window, “Look Lissa-Lou, isn’t the lake pretty?”

“Lake!” Alisa repeats him enthusiastically and starts talking a mile-a-minute in her nonsensical babble, interspersed with a few of the words that he and Tessa are starting to understand. She picks things up so quickly, Scott wouldn’t be surprised if she’s speaking in full, grammatically correct sentences by the time she’s two. She may have his eyes, but she's definitely got Tessa's gift for learning. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Javi,” Tessa shakes Javier’s hand, greeting him with a warm smile, “It’s been too long. How are Miki and little Himawari? She must be what, eight or nine years old now?”

“It has been a long time. You have an excellent memory, as always. They're both doing very well. She couldn't get away from work, but she'll be sorry she missed seeing you.”

"Javi's wife Miki works at Vogue," Tessa explains to Scott, "I met her during Fashion Week in September 2017. Amazing woman.”

“Yes. You were there with Harry Chen, right? The Mayor of Montreal?”

An unfortunately familiar vice threatens to close in around Scott's chest at the mention of the other man's name, but he fights against it. Focusing instead on pointing out body parts with Alisa like her nose and his nose and laughing when she grabs his nose and squeezes tight. 

It's been three years, but Scott still can't say he's entirely comfortable hearing the other man's name. Some wounds take a little longer to heal, even with therapy. 

“Well, he wasn’t the mayor at the time, but yes,” Tessa replies, her hand coming to rest on the small of Scott's back and rubbing little circles there to soothe him and he relaxes into her touch. 

"Weren't you going to marry him at one point?" Javi laughs and Tessa lets out a forced, polite little chuckle, "I remember Miki saying you would be Canada's power couple." 

"I was going to, but people change. Thankfully everything worked out for the best. I hear his wife just had a baby." 

"Yes, I think so," Javi nods then gestures to the two of them, "Congratulations, by the way. Scott tells me you're expecting another child." 

Tessa hums happily and caresses her baby bump, smoothing out the black fabric so that it's a little more prominent, "A little boy in December." 

“Dada!” Alisa shouts, interrupting their conversation. Apparently not for the first time given by the way she grabs Scott's cheeks and forcefully turns his head away from Tessa and Javier.

“Sorry, Lissa-Lou, what is it?”

“Baka!”

Scott looks out the window to find a man with a large German Shepherd walking towards one of the hiking trails and laughs, “That doggie does look like Babcock, you’re right, but he’s home with Nana.”

Alisa pouts and Scott kisses her cheek, a poor consolation prize for the dog she apparently misses. 

"Excuse me everyone," The wedding planner calls out, making the room go silent, "Eric and Luis are ready to begin. Please take your places and we'll proceed once the music starts."            

 

The evening sun shines out from behind the mountain peaks, bathing the procession in glorious golden light. The turquoise lake provides a stunning backdrop to the beautiful rose arbor interspersed with orange blossoms that stands at the end of the aisle. A quartet of violins begins playing one of Eric’s own compositions, signalling that it's time for Scott and Javi to start the processional.

They make their way down the path between the packed chairs, with Chiddy & Adrián close behind, followed by Luis’s best friend Celia and her young son, the ring bearer.

Tessa is the last of the groomspeople and she walks slowly with her hand in Alisa’s, carrying the basket and holding it down low so that Alisa can grab handfuls of orange blossoms and toss them everywhere. It's adorable and Scott laughs along with the audience at Lissa's chubby little hand struggling to distribute the flowers evenly. They mostly end up lying in little sporadic heaps. 

Tessa leans down to whisper something into Alisa’s ear as they get close to the end and points up at Scott, and the little girl searches until she finds him and then takes off as fast as her roly-poly legs will carry her – forcing Tessa to chase after her and the rest of the flowers to fall haphazardly at the end of the row.

Everyone chuckles and Scott squats down with open arms to scoop up his daughter into a big hug, lifting her up in his arms and earning a chorus of _awwws_ from a few people.

Tessa takes her place beside him, fixing Alisa's lopsided flower crown with a bemused smile, and Scott grins and shrugs as if to say _what can you do?_

The music transitions into the traditional wedding march and everyone stands up for the arrival of the grooms. Luis walks down the aisle first, accompanied by his mother, followed closely behind by a beaming Eric and Mrs. Radford.

Scott finds himself grinning in return. He can still remember Eric as a kid, so awkward and unsure around girls and dating intense little Meagan Duhamel just to keep his secret (he heard she got married in Bermuda a few years ago), and seeing him so happy now today makes him want to either cry or shout for joy to see one of his best friends finally so happy. 

As soon as everyone is in their place, Eric and Luis beaming as they stand across from each other, the officiant gestures for the guests to sit down and begins the ceremony.

“Welcome everybody. We are thrilled that so many of you could make it here today. One of the wonderful things about a wedding is that it also serves as a multi-family reunion, and it always pleases me to learn how far people are willing to travel to be here on a day like this, for an event like this, which just goes to show you how important it is to mark these happy transitions in our lives. We have guests here today from Ontario, Quebec, New York, Manitoba, and Spain. Welcome! Eric and Luis thank you for traveling here today.”

Scott smiles against the top of Alisa’s head, pressing a kiss to her hair. They’d all been surprised when Eric had announced at one of their weekly game nights last year that he and Luis had fallen in love with Banff National Park and decided to have their wedding at the Fairmont Chateau, but now that he’s here he can hardly blame them. It _is_ gorgeous, and it’s fun to be able to share this adventure with him. The four musketeers together again to celebrate the last wedding of the group. 

“Please face each other and take each other’s hands so that you may see the gift that they are to you,” The officiant continues, “These are the hands of your best friend, strong and full of love for you, that are holding yours on your wedding day as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow and forever. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch will comfort you like no other. These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it, support and encouragement to pursue your dreams, and comfort in difficult times. And lastly, these are the hands that even years from now will still be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just one touch.”

Tessa’s hand bumps up against his and Scott takes it, lacing their fingers together while they watch the wedding unfold before them.

As the sunlight shimmers across the lake and Eric and Luis recite their vows, Scott can’t help but let his mind wander back to the previous year on a sunny day like this when he and Tessa had stood on a different beach and renewed their commitment to each other.

         

\-------

 

**_April 15, 2020_ **

**_Lake Huron, Ontario_ **

 

They’d been blessed with a sunny, unusually warm day for April in Ontario, and Scott couldn’t be more grateful for it as he stands across the sand and pebbles from Tessa. She looks radiant, the brightness of her lacy white dress only outdone by her smile, her long hair cascading over her shoulders in perfect waves, and Scott can feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes as he smiles back at her.

_She’s so beautiful_ , he thinks, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat _, the mother of my child, my wife, my Tess._

He has to resist the urge to pinch himself and make sure that this is all real. That they’re actually here together, after twenty-four years of ups and downs, standing at her family's cottage where they share so many memories - vowing to make new ones together for the rest of their lives.

They’d gone back and forth debating where to have the ceremony, alternating between a nice venue somewhere in the London area or a more exotic location, but ultimately decided they wanted somewhere personal. A place that held so many happy memories for both of them and where their closest friends and family could attend and didn't require taking their infant daughter on an airplane.

“Scott and Tessa, it is a pleasure to share today’s wonderful occasion with you. Many people believe that entering into marriage is the final step in a romantic relationship. A couple meets, gets to know one another and falls in love, decides they want to spend their lives together, and then take the final step—marriage. But marriage is hardly the final step in a couple’s relationship, rather it is the beginning.”

When they’d met with the local priest in Bayfield to ask him to officiate he’d asked about their backstory, and it’s clear he’d paid attention. Scott almost laughs at the memory of the awkward conversation they’d had trying to explain the past twenty-four years to the poor man who probably expected a much simpler tale. The corner of Tessa’s lip twitches and he can tell she’s thinking the same thing.

_Marriage is definitely just the beginning._

“Today you want to reconfirm your commitment to working together and ensuring your marriage blossoms for years to come. May this renewing of the vows you took to become husband and wife remind you that despite the stresses inevitable in every life, your love, respect, trust and understanding of each other will continue to increase your contentment and heighten your joy in living. Please join hands.”

Scott takes Tessa’s hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth to press a soft kiss against the back of them, earning a sweet smile from her before the priest continues speaking.

“Scott, will you continue to have Tessa as your wife and continue to live in this marriage?”

“I will.”

“Do you reaffirm your love for her, and will you love, honor, and cherish her in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Tessa blinks rapidly, trying to stem the tears that Scott can see pooling in her eyes, and it makes him smile. He wants to caress her cheeks and wipe them away, but that will have to wait a few more minutes while they get through this.

“Tessa, will you continue to have Scott as your husband and continue to live in this marriage?”

“I will.”

“Do you reaffirm your love for him, and will you love, honor, and cherish him in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”   

It’s Scott’s turn to cry and he doesn’t even try to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks (he's doesn't have make-up to worry about like she does). He’s not ashamed to admit how much this ceremony means to him after all these years. All of the struggle and heartache and pain.

Life is good now. Amazing, in fact. And despite what people might think he wouldn’t trade what they have now for those missing ten years, even if it spared him the heartbreak, because it brought him this. Good careers for both of them, personal growth, a house he probably never would have been able to afford otherwise, and, most importantly, Alisa.

But this ceremony is like the icing on the cake. The final piece of beginning their new life together.

“On your wedding day you exchanged rings as a symbol of the never-ending circle of love. Rings serve as a reminder of your  vows to each other, and your commitment to live in unity, love, and happiness. At this time, please reconfirm the meaning of the rings you wear. Please join your left hands together.”

The priest tells him what to say and Scott repeats the words solemnly, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the simple silver band on Tessa’s finger. He’d asked over and over if she wanted something new. Something fancier. But she’d insisted that this one was perfect and the only ring for her.

“Tess, I wear this ring you placed on my hand as a symbol of my love and commitment to you.”

“Scott, I wear this ring you placed on my hand as a symbol of my love and commitment to you.”

“I ask that you each continue to cherish each other as special and unique individuals and that you respect the thoughts and ideas of one another. And most of all, be able to forgive each other, and not hold grudges against each other. Live each day in love with each other, always being there to give love, comfort, and refuge, in good times and bad.”

There’s a slight pause while an openly weeping Alma hands Alisa over to Scott, still sleeping peacefully in her bundle of blankets, before the priest continues.

“One of the great blessings of marriage is the joy and responsibility of raising a family. Scott and Tessa have truly been blessed to be the parents of Alisa Jane. As Scott and Tessa renew their vows today, they also renew their commitment to be loving, caring parents to Alisa and any other children they may be blessed to have, recognizing with gratefulness the happiness and fulfillment that Alisa has brought to their marriage and family life.”

Tessa leans in and softly kisses Alisa’s forehead, and the moment feels so perfect Scott honestly thinks he might die from happiness.

“Scott and Tessa, today you have renewed the vows you made to each other on your blessed wedding day. You have symbolized the renewal of your union by the joining of hands, the taking of vows, and by the wearing of your rings. It is with pleasure that I conclude the ceremony of renewing the vows of marriage that joined you and binds you as husband and wife. Please celebrate this renewal of vows with a kiss!”

 

\-------

 

Scott’s jolted from his memories by Tessa softly elbowing him in the ribs, quirking an eyebrow at him as if to say _are you paying attention?_  He only smiles and squeezes her hand a little tighter, refocusing on the wedding at hand.  

“Tonight is all about love. It has been my honor to officiate your ceremony this evening. And now I get to say something you’ve been looking forward to hearing for a long time. By the powers vested in me by the Province of Alberta, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your husband.”

Eric cups Luis’s face in his hands and presses his lips to his – hardly able to kiss each other properly through their smiles – and the guests erupt into cheers and hollers, including Alisa who never misses an opportunity to clap as enthusiastically as she can. 

 

They move inside for dinner and the reception and it's immediately clear how Tessa feels about that decision as soon as the first plates are set in front of them.  

“This is the best chicken salad I’ve ever had,” Tessa practically moans, savoring each bite, “Do you think it would be weird if I went to the kitchen and asked for the recipe?”

“So that _I_ can make it for you, I assume,” Scott chuckles, wiping away some of the bright orange baby food that had dribbled down Alisa’s chin before scooping out some more from the jar and feeding it to her.

“Hey! I’ve gotten much better and you know it,” Tessa protests, “I can handle making a _salad_. It’s not rocket science.”

“You’re right. A salad should be fine, but please don’t try to make the beef tenderloin. I really don’t want to have Charlie show up at our house again.”

“One time. That happened one time! And it’s not my fault that your brother is one of the only firemen in town.”

“I’m just saying let’s try to make it to the end of the year without any more emergency calls.”

“Who’s having an emergency?” Chiddy asks, pulling out one of the blue chairs for Liz and helping her sit down.

“Scott will be soon if he doesn’t stop teasing me about my cooking,” Tessa grumbles, but Chiddy only laughs as he plops down into the seat beside his wife.

“You might as well ask for the moon, Tess. We all remember the flambé incident of 2007.”

"I can't believe you would bring that up. We swore never to talk about it!" 

Scott laughs, remembering the look of horror on Eric and Chiddy's faces when Tessa had tried to make crêpes flambé their first week after moving into the trailer together to celebrate and nearly burned the place down.

Chiddy grins and reaches out to pat her hand sympathetically, "I love you, but you should probably stick to easy stuff like Hello Fresh meals where they do most of the work for you." 

"You're never invited for dinner again."

"Oh don't say that. I wouldn't be able to live without those desserts you always serve," Liz interjects, looking so sad that the three of them can't help but feel guilty for even suggesting it. 

"She doesn't cook those either," Scott points out, and Tessa swiftly kicks his shin under the table in retaliation. 

" _You_ are always invited," She tells Liz, glaring at Chiddy and Scott in turn, "We'll turn our weekly group dinners into girl's nights." 

"That sounds amazing. I could really use something to get my mind off of everything."  

“How are you feeling, Liz?” Scott asks, steering the conversation away from anything that might get him kicked again. There's a tiny love seat in their hotel room and he really doesn't want to end up sleeping on it tonight - no matter how tempting it is to keep teasing Tessa about her lack of culinary skills. 

“I _feel_ like a whale,” Liz groans loudly, sagging into her chair as best she can and trying to find a comfortable position, “I’m ready to be done.”

“How far along are you now?” Tessa asks, sympathy written all over her face as she rests her hand over her own bump – much smaller in comparison to Liz's.

“Just over thirty-two weeks.”

"She really isn’t supposed to be traveling,” Chiddy interjects, looking sternly at his wife who just rolls her eyes in response, "The doctor said we can expect labor to happen soon - sometime around thirty-five weeks."

“As if I was going to miss Eric’s wedding, or ask Patrick to miss it," Liz rolls her eyes again, "The doctor gave me a note and said it was fine. He worries too much.”

“We’re having twins, honey, I have a right to be worried.”

Tessa pats her knee and nods, gesturing at Scott with her thumb, “Scott’s the same way, and I’m only at twenty-one weeks.”

“I’m with Chiddy on this one," Scott chimes in, feeling the need to defend his protective friend, "We’re the dads – there isn’t much for us to do besides worry right now.”

“At least you’ve improved since I was pregnant with Alisa. You’re a little calmer this time around.”

Scott can tell by the soft look on Tessa's face that she’s not really teasing or judging him with that comment. They’d both been so worried that something bad would happen, that history would repeat itself, and although he’s trying to be better and stay positive the second time around, it’s hard not to let those fears creep in again as they await the birth of their son.

"It wouldn't be so bad if they would stop squirming,” Liz huffs, rubbing at her stomach. 

“That’s because there’s no room to move in there anymore. They probably want out just as much as you do," Chiddy points out, massaging one of her shoulders. 

"Who wants out? You're not leaving, are you?" Eric pops in out of nowhere carrying a tray of shot glasses and looking affronted at the suggestion that any of them might leave the party early. 

"No, man. Not yet," Scott reassures him, accepting his shot glass and being careful not to spill any on Alisa. 

"Good. Hey, Lissa," Eric pats the little girl on her head and pulls a funny face that has Alisa giggling instantly, gazing up at her "Uncle Eric" adoringly. Tessa has the cutest picture of her sleeping on Eric's chest after he'd fallen asleep holding her on their couch - the two of them dozing peacefully, chests rising and falling in unison - and not for the first time Scott's infinitely glad Eric and Luis had decided to live in London instead of Montreal. 

"Alright, guys, the four of us are doing whiskey shots to honor the occasion. Except you, Tess," Eric hands her a glass with clear liquid, "Water for you." 

"Thanks," Tessa chuckles, clinking her glass against his.

"Ready?" 

“One for all and all for one!” They cheer in unison - Scott, Chiddy, and Eric all grimacing as the amber liquid burns their throats. 

"I just have to say," Eric continues, taking the empty seat next to Scott and leaning in over the table, "I really appreciate the four of you flying out her for this. I know it's a long way to come and it wasn't easy in your conditions," He gestures to Tessa and Liz, "And you all must be exhausted." 

"Of course we came, Eric," Chiddy replies, "There's no way any of us would miss your wedding." 

"Do you think you guys have enough energy to dance, too?" 

"I don't know," Scott hesitates, looking down at Alisa who - now that her stomach is full - is showing signs of the excitement of the day finally wearing on her, "Lissa will probably need to go to bed soon and I don't know if I have the stamina to stay up partying all night like we used to." 

“Scott, you have enough stamina to outlast anyone,” Tessa cuts in. Her is voice innocent as she disagrees with his assessment of his energy levels, but Scott grins proudly at Eric and Chiddy - meeting their knowing gazes with a wink. 

Eric’s eye light up with a spark of mischief and he opens his mouth, a salacious reply clearly forming on his lips, but Tessa blushes and smacks him on the shoulder before he can get the words out, “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Ouch. Burn, man,” Eric says instead, rubbing the spot where Tessa hit him and frowning sympathetically at Scott, "And she's your _wife_."

“No. Not like – he _does_ have great stamina – ugh, you know what? I’m just going to bow out now before I say something really embarrassing. Have fun dancing," Tessa forcefully scoots her chair back and stands up, frowning at everyone's laughter. 

“Aww, Tess, don’t go!” Eric pouts, standing up and reaching for her hand and keeping her in place, “It’s my wedding. Dance this one with me. I promise I’ll be nice.”

Seconds pass while Tessa looks suspiciously at Eric, gauging whether or not he’s going to keep teasing her, before she finally sighs and nods, “Alright. _One_ dance.”

It isn't long before her laughter is carrying out across the room as Eric drags her into the middle of the dance floor and spins her around in an elaborate waltz alongside Luis and Celia.

"Tessa looks happy,” Chiddy comments quietly, watching Eric spin Tessa into Luis on purpose and the four dancers dissolve into more laughter, “Have you told her yet?” 

Scott sighs, gently rocking Alisa back and forth – the little girl’s head nodding heavily as she struggles against falling asleep, until it finally falls onto his shoulder. He tucks her head under his chin and rearranges his arms just a bit to hold her more comfortably.

“Not yet. I’m not sure what my answer will be.”

“What do you _want_ it to be?” Chiddy presses, reaching out and fixing Alisa’s shoe so that it doesn’t fall off while she sleeps.

Scott goes quiet, thinking over his answer. When his uncle Paul had approached him two weeks ago with the idea of expanding the shop and opening a branch in Toronto, Scott had brushed it off as a pipe dream. He’s _happy_ with how things are going in London and hadn’t really thought about trying to go bigger. But Paul had returned with charts and graphs and spreadsheets and proven that it could be done, and done successfully.

Now it’s all Scott can think about.

But expanding would mean more work - trips to Toronto, money, builders, contracts, new employees - and he and Tessa have their hands full with their current careers as it is, not to mention a toddler and another child on the way.

“It’s complicated,” Scott says slowly, mulling over his answer, “Objectively I think it’s a good idea, but there are a lot of factors to consider. It might not be the _best_ idea.”

“I think you should tell Tessa and find out what she thinks. I bet she’ll be all for it. Ask her,” Chiddy says as he helps Liz back out of her chair and gestures towards the dance floor, tugging her hand when she tries to protest, “We can just sway slowly, honey, but I want to dance with my wife.”

Scott watches them go and thinks over what Chiddy said. Tessa probably would be supportive. In fact, that’s not what has Scott hesitating. He knows the second he tells her she’ll be able to see it in his face that he wants to do it, and she’ll say yes, but he’s not sure he can ask her to do that. She’s been incredibly busy gearing up for another Fashion Week in New York, even though she won’t be able to attend this year, having daily video meetings with Marie and spending most of her days cooped up in her office trying to coordinate everything. Now doesn’t seem like the best time to suggest either of them taking on more work.

“What’s wrong?” Tessa appears in front of him, breathless and pink-cheeked from dancing more than one dance with Eric, and frowns a little as she rubs the crease between his eyes with her thumb.

“Nothing,” Scott shakes his head, smiling at her and gesturing to Alisa, “She fell asleep, just like I thought she would.”

Tessa looks at him for a long moment, her green eyes calculating and altogether too perceptive for his comfort, before reaching out for their daughter, “Give her to me. I’ll take her to bed.”

Scott hesitates so she picks up the diaper bag instead, shrugging it onto her shoulder with practiced ease.

“Are you sure, T? I don’t want you to have to end your night early. You looked like you were having fun out there.”

“I don’t mind. I’m exhausted after dancing and being on my feet all day. I don’t know if you noticed, but somebody knocked me up. It’s getting harder to wear heels and not want to die.”

“You know, I _had_ noticed,” Scott chuckles, caressing her baby bump with his free hand.

Tessa covers his hand with hers and laughs, “He just kicked you. I know you can’t feel it yet, but he’s saying hello.”

“Hello, son,” Scott whispers back, pushing a little harder against her stomach as he does. He can’t wait until she gets a little further along and the baby can actually hear him.

“Here,” Tessa reaches out again and takes Alisa from his arms, bouncing a little to soothe her when she fusses at being moved around, “Stay and dance. I know you’re dying to get out there and do Gangsta’s Paradise with Eric and Chiddy.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just because I’m tired doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stay and have fun. Just make sure you save some of that stamina for me,” She winks.

“Count on it,” Scott murmurs against her lips, pulling her in for a kiss. He’s sorely tempted to go with her, but Eric probably wouldn’t be too happy if they both disappeared before the party was over.

Tessa gives him a jaunty little wave goodbye from the doorway before disappearing around the corner and Scott sighs and turns around to join his friends – immediately getting swept up in the dance by Eric and Chiddy and forgetting the outside world for a little while as the three of them pretend they're eighteen again.

 

         

Hours pass before it's time for the wedding guests to finally bid Eric and Luis farewell and Scott is free to trudge up the stairs to his and Tessa’s hotel room.

The elevator had been crammed full of intoxicated party-goers and the prospect of spending the ride in a tight space with people who might hurl any second was less than appealing, so he'd opted for the climb. But it takes most of the rest of his energy and by the time Scott opens the door on the dark bedroom, he’s ready to fall into the bed in his suit – no thought nor care for the possibility of wrinkling it beyond repair by sleeping in it.

He expects to find Tessa asleep and Alisa in her port-a-crib, but instead he finds the curtains open wide and Tessa standing in front of the window. She’s wearing her favorite pajamas – black leggings and one of his old t-shirts. Her make-up is gone, her hair is in a loose braid down her back, and Scott thinks she’s never looked more beautiful than she does then, holding their daughter and bathed in moonlight and framed by countless stars.

She’s rocking gently back and forth, shifting from foot to foot, as she sings quietly. It’s something she rarely does, and only in front of him, which makes the moment all the sweeter. In the quiet he can hear her softly singing the lyrics of an old Debbie Reynold’s song that she loves, with slightly amended lyrics.

 

_When the night is warm, soft and warm_

_I long for his charms_

_I'd sing like a violin_

_If I were in his arms_

_Wish I knew if he knew what I'm dreaming of_

_Tessa, Tessa, Tessa’s in love_

 

Scott slides his arms around her, one hand resting over hers on Alisa’s back, the other over her stomach, and tucks his head in over the opposite shoulder from where Alisa is sleeping.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He whispers as quietly as he can, just loud enough for Tessa to hear him, and she hums.

“I think she wanted you,” She explains.

There’s no bitterness in her voice, but Scott knows that Tessa is convinced Alisa is a daddy’s girl through and through. As much as he loves it, loves that dad was her first word and that she always wants him to hold and snuggle and read to her, he wishes he could convince Tess that she’s loved just as much.

“Seems like she’s happy here with you,” He says, kissing Tessa’s neck and swaying along with her, “She loves when you sing to her, T.”

“That song is her favorite.”

“It’s her favorite because _you_ sing it,” Scott points out, kissing her again. A little higher this time and closer to her mouth, “You’re an amazing mom.”

“I hope so. I feel like I haven’t been around as much lately. I’ve been so busy with work-“

“Stop,” Scott interrupts her quickly, “You _are_ amazing. You stop working every night at five no matter how busy you are so that you can feed her dinner and give her a bath and read stories with us. I promise you’re not neglecting her. It’s all about balance, and as far as we’re concerned you’ve mastered that pretty well.”

“Do you think we’ll still be able to balance everything with two children? I’m a little worried about what we’ve gotten ourselves into here.”

“Hush now. We’re in this together, right?”

“Right.”

“Then there’s no way we can fail," He speaks with surety and punctuates the statement with a solid kiss on her lips, tucking her hair behind her ears and then kissing her on her forehead for good measure, "Let's go to sleep." 

Scott changes into his sweatpants while Tessa puts Alisa down in the crib, tucking her favorite blanket in around her, and then pulls her into bed with him. It’s a king size mattress, but they find each other in the middle anyway and snuggle in close.

“What was it you were thinking about earlier? You looked upset,” Tessa asks, cupping his neck with her hand and caressing his jawline with her thumb, “Is everything okay?”  

Scott shakes his head, reaching out to rest his hand on her ribcage and using the gentle rise and fall to steady him, “I wasn’t upset.”

“But you _were_ thinking about something important,” She insists, her fingers moving down to trail along his collarbone, and Scott notices the determined look in her eyes. She’s not going to drop this.

_Damn it._ He really needs to work on not expressing every single emotion with his face as he feels them. 

“It’s not important. It can wait,” He leans in to kiss her, but Tessa presses her hand firmly against his chest and stops him.  

“No, tell me now. If it was big enough to distract you from the party, then it matters. We don’t keep secrets, remember?”

“I-“ Scott pauses. He wants to tell her, it’s just that he’s not sure exactly _how_ yet. Ideally he’d like some more time to think things over, but after two weeks he’s no closer to an answer than he was when Paul first suggested it, so he gives in. “You’re right. Uncle Paul thinks we should open a skate shop in Toronto. He’s got it all planned out and done up the spreadsheets and he thinks it would be successful, but I don’t know.”

“Scott, that’s great! Why would you be upset about that?”

“I’m not _upset_ , I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”

Tessa huffs and rolls her eyes as she smiles at him, caressing his cheek again and making his eyelids flutter for a brief second, “Of course it’s a good idea! We both know the little shop in London isn’t enough to contain your popularity. People are coming in from all over Ontario and Michigan and you’re practically bursting at the seams. Paul is right – you should open a second shop – and Toronto is the perfect place to do it since so many top athletes train there. We could even consider Montreal someday too after you get Toronto up and running.”

“Whoa, slow down,” He chuckles, feeling a little lightheaded at the sudden prospect of the idea becoming real, “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am. You need to put that fancy business degree to good use.”

She says it so confidently, and no matter how hard he tries he can find no trace of doubt in her eyes. Even though it’s dark in the room, he can tell that she’s completely serious.  

“You really think expanding is a good idea? I mean, we’re already both so busy, T. We don’t want to bite off more than we can chew.”

“Remember what you just said to me? That we’re in this together? Well if that applies to me, then it applies equally to you. You want to do it, I can see it in your face, and I want you to. We’ll figure it all out. Plus, we both thrive on being busy and productive and you know it. We’ll make it work.”

"I’m so glad I married you.”

“Twice,” Tessa says, smiling against his lips as she leans in to kiss him, “You married me _twice_.”

“The two best decisions I ever made,” Scott hums, moving his hands with  _intent_ and loving how quickly she responds. 

Tessa peppers kisses across his jaw and whispers, “Me too.”   

          


	9. December 24, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa attempts to cook Christmas Eve dinner for the whole family. 
> 
> *attempts* being the key word here, poor thing.

** for a moment the world was aglow **

 

“Tess, are you really sure you want to do this?” Jordan asks for the second time in as many minutes as she steals a handful of chocolate chips from the pantry, gesturing with her full hand at the supplies spread chaotically over the kitchen island and countertops.

“ _Yes,"_ Tessa insists, trying not to show her annoyance, "Everyone needs to stop asking me that. I can do this."

Tessa doesn't bother to look up from the paper on the counter in front of her - Gordon Ramsey’s famous Christmas turkey recipe, the one that had the highest reviews and everyone online promised would be a hit - and tugs at the stylish yet uncomfortable apron she'd barely managed to tie over her protruding baby belly. She already knows what she'll find if she looks at her sister anyway. 

_Apprehension_.  

“It’s just,” Jordan hesitates, savoring the chocolate morsels as she chooses her next words carefully, “You’ve never mentioned such an affection for cooking before, and now doesn't seem like the best timing.”

Setting aside the herb butter that she’d just spent the last fifteen minutes preparing, Tessa glares at her sister. Everybody (mainly Scott) had asked her repeatedly over the last month if she _really_ wanted to make Christmas Eve dinner for the whole family, and Alma and Kate had both offered _multiple_ times to take the job off her hands - always under the guise of being concerned that it would be too much to handle at nine months pregnant - and it's seriously starting to grate on her nerves.

They might all pretend that they're just looking out for her, but Tessa knows the real reason nobody wants her to make dinner is because none of them think that she can do it, and while normally she would agree and let them take over, after almost thirty-three years of jokes at her expense, she’s ready to prove them all wrong.

“That’s because none of you think I can cook, but I _can_ when I want to. I lived alone in Montreal for ten years without starving. Now, unless you want to help me remove the giblets you might want to pour yourself some wine and join your girlfriend in the family room. She’s probably tired of being interrogated by the Moirs.”

“Okay, okay,” Jordan holds her hands up in self-defense, “I get it. I’ll leave you to your newly discovered culinary brilliance.”

Tessa watches her sister go, rubbing mindlessly at her stomach. Her due date came and went three days ago and even though she’s handling it much better this time around, she’s in desperate need of a distraction - and what could be better than cooking dinner for sixteen people? It's hard to think about labor and delivery when you're removing the innards of a dead bird. 

Just that morning Scott had kissed her on the forehead and lovingly called her crazy, but she’s determined to prove that she can do this, and do it right. Although something about the phrase, “season the cavity well,” is less than encouraging.

“Hey, babe,” Scott waltzes into the kitchen a few minutes later, an empty baby bottle in his hand that he deposits in the sink before kissing her on the cheek, “Lissa’s down for her nap. How’s it coming in here?”

“It’s going great. I’m already on step four," Tessa states proudly. 

_Fake it 'til you make it_ , she reminds herself,  _pretend that you're confident and the confidence will come._

“From the outside of the skin, gently massage the butter around the breasts so that the meat is evenly covered,” Scott picks up the recipe and reads out loud, waggling his eyebrows at her, “Wow, T, is this a recipe for turkey or sex?”

“If you ever rub butter on my breasts I will have some _serious_ questions," Tessa rolls her eyes and plucks the paper out of his hands so that she can continue her work.

“I rubbed cocoa butter on you two nights ago,” Scott points out with an absolutely filthy smile.

Tessa can feel her cheeks flush with color at the memory and she pointedly avoids looking at him, tilting her chin up in defiance, “That was different.”

Scott chuckles at her embarrassment and pulls her in for a kiss, his lips lingering against hers, and while objectively she knows she really doesn't have time for this, she's never been very good at resisting his advances.

Through the open archway she can hear their combined family laughing and shouting as they chatter and watch a Christmas movie on the TV.  _A Christmas Story_ , she thinks, recognizing the familiar chanting of, "You'll shoot your eye out." The air all around them is permeated with various seasonings and big, fat snowflakes are falling steadily outside. It’s homey and perfect and Tessa sinks further into his arms with a contented sigh.

He deepens the kiss, his hands moving lower to cup her ass, and Tessa forces herself to pull away - caressing his jaw as she says remorsefully, “I have to finish this.”

Scott juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and Tessa chuckles as she tugs at it with her thumb – laughing harder when he nips at her fingertips with his teeth.

“Or we could sneak upstairs while everyone is distracted,” He smirks, eyes flashing with heat, and wraps his arms around her waist – pulling her in as close as he can while in her current state.

“And how would we explain why the food isn’t ready, hmm?” She asks, looping her arms around his neck and bumping his nose with hers. 

“Step five says, ‘spread the rest of the butter all over the skin.’ That takes _time,_ T.”

"You’re incorrigible,” She steps out of his embrace and grabs the hand towel off the nearby oven rack and swats his leg, making Scott laugh and jump away. “Now shoo. I really do have to finish this and there's a lot left to get done.”

"That sounds infinitely less fun than my idea, but I’ll leave you to it,” Scott says, grabbing a few beers from the fridge and kissing her cheek again before heading back out into the family room.

Tessa watches him go, eyes lingering on his ass – which he wiggles a little in the doorway as if he knows she’s watching, making her giggle – before refocusing on making the best goddamn Christmas Eve dinner anyone in the combined Virtue-Moir family has ever had.

She roasts the turkey in the hot oven for 10–15 minutes before taking the tray out and basting the bird with the pan juices and laying bacon rashers over the breast (supposedly to keep it moist), then bastes it again before lowering the temperature of the oven and setting the timer for two and a half hours.

“There,” She states proudly to herself, wiping her hands off on her apron as she stands back and looks at the turkey through the dark glass, “As long as I keep an eye on the time, it should turn out perfectly.”

With the hardest part now done, she can get to work on the potatoes and rolls and other paraphernalia. Alma and Kate had each brought pies and vegetables, respectively, and Jordan a decent looking salad, and there are plenty of appetizers and snacks courtesy of the Moir brothers and their wives.

The tense muscles in Tessa’s shoulders start to loosen as she starts to genuinely believe she might actually pull this off.

Without warning, a sudden squeezing feeling in her abdomen has her bending over and gripping the edge of the counter for support.

_Oh no. Not now!_ She thinks desperately, pleading with her body while focusing on breathing through the pain. She’s got too much work to do and it’s _Christmas_. She can’t go into labor now. _Please not yet, baby, let me make it through today._

She grits her teeth and waits. Counting the seconds until the pain passes and watching the clock anxiously to see if they're going to start up again soon enough for her to worry.

When it doesn't happen again within a few minutes, she relaxes and stands back up straight. 

_False alarm._

“It’s probably just Braxton Hicks again,” She quietly dismisses. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened with this pregnancy. Only just the week before she and Scott had been convinced she was going into labor – to the point of calling Alma to babysit and taking their hospital bags out to the car - only for the contractions to stop after a few hours.

Resolving to ignore it and press on, Tessa gets back to work peeling potatoes and making sure the dough for the rolls is rising properly (it's supposed to double in size, but so far it seems a little stunted). 

Soon there's just over an hour left to go on the oven and everything is beginning to smell amazing. Nothing has burned so far, the turkey is developing a nice color, and Tessa feels entitled to the glass of non-alcoholic sparkling apple cider she’s currently sipping as the potatoes boil on the stove - softening until they're ready to be mashed.

This is going to work.

_Ha_ , she practically cackles, _I knew I could do this! Take that, doubters!_

And that's when the electricity completely cuts out.

There's a moment of confusion during which she just stares at the darkened oven and tries to pinch herself awake, but the surprised and upset sounds coming from the living room confirm that the nightmare is real. 

“What’s going on?” She asks anxiously, joining the rest of the family in the other room, her eyes immediately seeking out Scott for an answer, “Why is the power out? Did somebody blow the breaker?”

“It’s probably just the weather,” Kate says, nodding towards the storm outside, and Tessa glances out the windows with a grimace. It _is_ snowing pretty hard, but that’s not exactly rare for Ilderton in December and they’ve never lost power before.

“It needs to come back on! The turkey isn’t finished yet and I still need to bake the rolls as well.”

“I’ll check the breaker box,” Scott moves his nephew off his lap and climbs up off of the couch, “But I think Kate is right - it’s probably because of the snow. It’s coming down pretty hard out there.”

“We can’t lose power right now!” Tessa practically shouts, spinning her wedding band around her finger and clenching her teeth as another contraction sweeps through her body. _Stop that!_ She yells at her stomach, _W_ _e can’t have that right now either!_

“I’m sure it will come back on,” Scott presses a quick kiss to her forehead and runs off to the laundry room where the circuit breaker box is, looking like Clark Kent determined to save the day.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Tess,” Jordan puts her arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for a quick hug, trying to soothe her.

“It’s just… I wanted everything to be perfect, but without power the turkey will still be half raw.”

“I know,” Jordan frowns sympathetically, "For what it's worth, it smells really great. We've all noticed, even from in here." 

“Bad news. I tried resetting all the switches, but it didn’t work,” Scott announces, walking back into the room with the posture of a man who's gone up against an enemy and lost, “Something definitely happened outside. There must be a power line down somewhere.”

“I’ll make a call,” Charlie pulls his cell out of his pocket and walks into the hallway, taking over a dozen people’s hopes and dreams for a successful dinner with him.

They all seem to wait with baited breath for him to return. 

"If there is something blocking the power I'm sure they already have a team on it," Danny says from somewhere underneath the pile of kids currently playing Twister. Half of his face covered by Jordan's girlfriend Heather's daughter Ruth's dark, curly hair. 

“Okay, I just spoke to my buddy John at the station and he said they just got a call from the Smiths that a tree is down over on Hyde Park road and the power is out all across town. The good news is that there’s a crew headed there now to fix it and they should have it back up in a couple of hours.”

"Called it!" Danny mumbles just as Tessa cries out. 

“ _Hours!?_ This day is a disaster," She groans and sinks down onto the couch in defeat. Not even Scott coming over and gently massaging her shoulders works to console her.

“We’ll make do with what we have,” Alma pats her gently on the knee, smiling sympathetically, “I’m sorry this happened. I know how hard you were working.”

“I guess I should have listened when everybody said I couldn’t make a successful dinner.”

“Hey now," Alma tsks, shaking her head, "This isn’t your fault and from what I can tell you were right on track to make something amazing. We can still salvage dinner. Jordan and Heather can finish the potatoes. Kate can sort out the pies. We have salad and plenty of fruit and snacks and there’s more than enough wine and beer for the adults. We can make this work.”

“Let’s take the kids outside, Dan," Scott suggests, "They could use a chance to expend some of their energy before we eat and there’s not a lot to entertain them in here unless they like toddler toys."

"That's a good idea," Danny and Charlie and their wives immediately agree, the whole group of them get to work piling coats and hats and boots on all the kids and marching them out into the backyard. They take little Ruth with them, and it's endearing to see her fitting in so quickly with the Moir kids.

Never one to like being left out though, Tessa starts to stand back up – ready to head into the kitchen and finish dinner (or as much as she can, anyway).

“What can I do?” She asks the room of busy women, only for Kate to put her hands on her shoulders and forcibly turn her around - pushing her back towards the family room. 

“Tessa, honey, you stay out here and rest. Your feet and ankles are swollen and you’re looking a little pale. We’ve got this. Just take a minute to relax.”

Kate drags the ottoman closer to the couch so that Tessa can rest her feet on it and drapes a throw blanket over her lap, squeezing Tessa’s hand affectionately before heading back into the kitchen.

And just like that Tessa goes from being in charge and nearly crossing the finish line of her first successful large family meal to being relegated to the couch like an invalid.

It's somehow both humiliating and a relief all at the same time. 

Babcock trots over and props his head up on her thighs, his big eyes looking up at her with far more sympathy than any canine has a right to feel when they can’t possibly comprehend the situation.

“It was _going_ to be delicious, you know,” Tessa grumbles, folding one arm over her chest and sagging backwards into the couch, the other reaching out to bury her fingers in his thick fur, “I was nearly there.”

Babcock makes some sort of whimpering noise that _almost_ sounds understanding and Tessa smiles softly at him and scratches his favorite spot behind his ears.

“Next year,” Tessa sighs loudly (perhaps a little over-dramatically, but who cares - it feels good to let the disappointment out), and tugs the blanket up to her chin, “Next year I’ll get it right.”

 

Kate and Alma end up assembling a pretty decent feast with the items on hand, laying everything out across the dining room table with a big stack of paper plates just as Jordan calls the Moir clan back inside.

A sharp gust of cold wind hits Tessa in the face as the backdoor opens and bodies pile through, trailing snow and laughter in with them. Most of them head straight to the table to put together plates of food, but Scott walks over to her instead and kisses her on the cheek with a loud smack – his frozen lips making her shiver and the droplets of snow from his hair dripping on her face.

“Gah! It’s cold!” She protests, shoving him away with a laugh that makes Scott grin and lean in again to pepper more icy kisses across her jaw – ignoring Tessa’s attempts to squirm away.

“There’s _snow_ way you’re getting away from me, T,” He jokes, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to hold her in place so that she can’t escape him and he can keep kissing her.

“I heard that!” Jordan shouts across the room, “That was a terrible pun, Moir!”

“I don’t appreciate your _frosty_ tone, Jo!” He calls back.

“ _Icy_ what you did there,” Tessa chimes in and Scott grins at her while half of their siblings groan in unison.

“Nice one, T. I knew this would be love at frost sight.”

“For every bad pun he makes he owes a dollar to the _slush_ fund,” Charlie says, elbowing Jordan in the ribs and laughing when she glares at him.

“You’re not helping.”   

“Maybe if we ignore him, he’ll feel _ice_ -olated and stop,” Danny suggests, high-fiving Charlie over Jordan’s head and ignoring her when she punches his shoulder.

“I think I can hear Alisa fussing,” Charlie's wife Nicole interjects quickly, “Scott, go get your daughter before this becomes a full-blown pun war.”

“Well that would be one way to break the ice,” Heather speaks up, surprising everybody so much they all go quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter. Even Jordan can’t help but chuckle at her girlfriend’s play on words, shaking her head with mild exasperation before kissing her on the cheek.

“That just sealed the deal, she’s officially one of the family,” Scott announces loudly with a big smile at Heather before disappearing down the hallway to retrieve their daughter, and Tessa hums happily - satisfied at the look of contentment on her sister's face. 

Jordan had met Heather, a young widow with a six year old daughter, when they were both volunteering at a charity event at the Ronald McDonald House in Toronto and, although she refused to calling it dating at first, it didn't take long before every phone call Tessa had with her sister involved some mention of the other woman - to the point that Tessa had finally straight up asked her point blank if they were a couple. At which point Jordan had paused and then softly replied, "Yeah, I guess maybe we are." 

It's clear from the way Jordan has her arm around Heather's waist now, both of them talking to a very animated Ruth, that any doubts she may have had no longer exist. 

Maybe dinner hasn’t gone exactly as planned, Tessa concedes, but they’re still having a good time. Everyone’s still happy and filling up on the other food available and laughing. And Jordan, after years of failed relationships, seems to have finally found the right person. 

_Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store_ , she quotes to herself,  _maybe Christmas means a little bit more._

“Let’s play a game while we eat,” Joe suggests once Scott has returned with Alisa, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and everyone’s seated around the family room, “Do you have any card games?”

“We have that Apples to Apples game that Essie gave us a while ago,” Scott answers him, “It’s in the cupboard behind you.”  

“Perfect.”

 

It turns out that Jordan is unbelievably good at picking her red cards, because she’s won just about every other round (although Tessa has a sneaking suspicion she and Heather are helping each other when they think no one is looking), and a very serious rivalry has begun between her and the three Moirs, who aren’t used to losing games that involve using their sense of humor.

“The green card is ‘Touchy-Feely,” Tessa places the green card down in front of her on the coffee table, rubbing mindlessly at the ache in her abdomen and watching Danny and Charlie solemnly look over their cards.

“You’ve gotta pick mine, T,” Scott whispers under his breath. Half of his cards have teeth marks from where Alisa had bitten into them (she’d warned him not to let their toddler get ahold of them, but he wouldn’t listen), and he pointedly picks one of them out and puts it in the middle of the table so that it's obvious which one is his, “Otherwise Jordan is going to win.”

“Who says I’ll pick hers?” Tessa whispers back, pulling another card out from between Alisa’s teeth and wiping the drool off on Scott’s pants.

“Everybody’s been picking hers. She’s too good.”

“Then they should pick better cards.”

“ _Tess_ ,” Scott hisses, but she waves him off. 

“Hey, sisterhood solidarity here,” Tessa holds her hands up in defense, leaning away from him and picking up all the red cards that had been turned in.

She shuffles them a few times, then a few more for good measure, before flipping them over one by one and beginning to read.

“Who put Bill Clinton!?” She practically shouts in surprise and Danny starts laughing, instantly giving himself away.

“Wait until you see mine," Charlie whispers conspiratorily, leaning in close to his older brother. He definitely only meant for Danny to hear that, but unfortunately being quiet isn’t exactly one of the Moir traits and everybody hears him.

“I don’t think either of you understand how to play this game,” Alma says, shaking her head at her both of her sons’ antics.

“Oh my god,” Tessa exclaims, looking up at Charlie with a glare, “I can’t believe you put Helen Keller.”

“Hey, when you’ve made a good joke, you want credit for it,” Charlie shrugs, fist-bumping Danny.

“I’m not awarding either of you and most of the other answers don’t make sense, so I guess I pick alien abductions,” Tessa plucks the card out from all the rest, not surprised at all to hear her sister cheer. 

“Yes!” Jordan pumps her fist in the air, adding the green card to her already sizeable pile, “I win!”

“Tess!” All three Moir brothers whine in unison, little Alisa’s voice chiming in as well in a perfect imitation of her father, earning a few laughs.

“That’s the game, guys. Jordan out-played you.”

Tessa tries to grin at them, but it comes off as more of a grimace when she’s hit with another contraction – more intense this time than the others had been - and it’s impossible to keep her reaction hidden.

“What’s wrong?” Scott's voice switches from whiny to worried in the blink of an eye and he rubs her back while she breathes through it, leaning in close.

“Nothing,” She hastily answers him, “Just a contraction.”

The wave finally recedes and she reaches out for the cards, intending to shuffle everything so they can start another game, but Scott stops her.

“What!? How long have they been going on?”

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is! You could be in labor.”

“But I’m probably not. We’ve had a few false alarms this month and the contractions today haven’t been regular.”

“What do you mean contract _ions_? How many have you had?” Scott demands, voice slipping from worried to slightly manic. 

“I don’t know. I lost count," Tessa replies defensively, refusing to look him in the eye, "They started while I was cooking and I was kind of focused on something else at the time, and then the power went out. I’ve been breathing through them like last time. I’m – _ow”_

Another wave of pain hits her as her abdomen contracts, making it impossible to talk while she waits it out.  

“ _Tess!”_ Scott clambers to his feet _,_ handing Alisa over to his mother and patting his pockets like he’s checking for his keys, “Those were close together. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Jordan asks, standing up as well and gesturing towards the windows where they can all see the snow piling up outside. 

“I’ve got a plow attached to the front of my police truck," Charlie offers, "I can try to get you there in that.”

“Joe and I will stay with Alisa,” Alma chimes in, bouncing the little girl on her hip as Alisa’s hazel eyes shoot back and forth between her parents as she tries to comprehend what’s going on.

Tessa tries to dismiss everyone's obvious concern with a wave of her hand, “You’re all overreacting. It’s just Braxton Hicks. Remember how late I was with Alisa? I’m sure he’s not coming for a few more days.”

“That’s a risk we can’t take, Tess,” Scott practically forces her coat over her arms, gesturing for Charlie to put on his coat too, “Go heat up the truck. Let’s get going.”

“I’m a nurse in the labor and delivery ward at Toronto General Hospital,” Heather says, already moving to put on her coat, "I'll come with you, just in case."

Tessa vaguely remembers Jordan telling her that when they first started dating, but it’s becoming hard to remember little details at the moment. Maybe she should have mentioned the contractions sooner. 

“We’ll follow right behind you,” Kate grabs her own coat and scarf and Jordan follows her lead.

“Mom are you _sure_ -“ Tessa begins to say just as another contraction starts to move through her, and Scott’s face loses all color.

“There’s no time to argue. We’ve got to _go_!”

 

The streets are, to put it mildly, terrifying. 

"It looks like we’ve made the jump into hyperspace,” Scott says, his tone forcibly casual as Charlie drives down the road – his brother's knuckles white where they grip the wheel.

Tessa has to agree with him. The snow is coming directly at the windshield so hard the wipers can barely keep up with the demand.

“Can you even see where you’re going?” She asks, wondering what the odds are of surviving labor in the middle of a blizzard. Probably not great, although women must have done it a hundred years ago when supplies were more rudimentary. 

The thought isn't exactly comforting. 

“It’s not required,” Charlie deadpans through gritted teeth.

"It is,” Tessa snaps back, squeezing Scott’s hand as she breathes through another contraction.

"They're still two minutes apart," Heather tells them from her spot in the front seat, checking her watch and marking down the time on her phone, "You're doing great, Tess." 

“Are we on the wrong side of the road? I think we are," Scott points out and Tessa grips his hand even tighter. It's probably painful, but he doesn't say anything and she's grateful to have something to help channel her anxiety and pain.  

“I know that," Charlie shoots back, carefully guiding the car back into something close enough to the right lane. 

“Isn’t that a problem?”

“I’m a cop. I’ll turn on my lights. People will have to move out of my way," Charlie flips the switch and flashes of red and blue bounce off the vortex of white outside, “We’re probably the only ones out here, anyway.”

“Not to rush you, but that last contraction was less than two minutes after the one before it. They're getting closer together,” Heather says quietly to Charlie, who grinds his teeth together and speeds up as much as he dares.  

“You just _had_ to go into labor in the middle of a blizzard, didn’t you, Tutu?”

“Oh yes, because I _chose_ this," Tessa grunts, wishing there was something she could throw at him. 

“I’m going to have a serious bone to pick with your son when he arrives, I’m just saying.”

“As long as he arrives safely and not in the backseat of your car, you can complain all you want,” Scott interrupts, “ _Drive_!”

 

\------- 

 

Christopher Scott Moir is born at 12:26 in the morning on Christmas day in the lobby of the London Health Sciences Center weighing a healthy eight pounds even and staring widely at the brand new world around him as if he hadn't just nearly scared his parents and entire extended family to death.

"That might be the most dramatic birth here in the last decade," Dr. Simonsen, the white-haired, mild-mannered, on-call OBGYN, says as soon as the baby has been safely delivered and both he and Tessa are tucked away in their hospital room, "That little boy of yours certainly wanted to get here in a hurry. When he makes his mind up about something, he'll find a way to make it happen, mark my words."  

The doctor chuckles and although she's exhausted and sore, Tessa manages to laugh along, "It certainly seems that way. Thank you, Dr. Simonsen." 

"You're very welcome. Merry Christmas to the both of you and that little bundle of joy right there. I'm sure a nurse will be along to check on you again in a little while." 

As soon as the door closes behind him, Scott climbs into the bed beside her. 

“The best gift Santa Claus could bring,” He whispers over her shoulder, caressing their son’s soft downy hair with his thumb while Tessa breastfeeds him for the first time. Christopher's little hand clasped tightly around her fingers as he eats greedily.

“I’m just glad he’s here safely and wasn’t born on highway four.”

“Charlie’s going to be so mad we didn’t name him after him just for that," Scott laughs, "Maybe we should reconsider.”

“We are not going to rename our son after Charlie for the exact same reason we didn't give him the middle name of Patrick. We are avoiding any and all potential namesake wars," Tessa reminds him, looking up at him with an arches eyebrow and Scott takes the opportunity to kiss her softly. 

"I know. But still, he's never going to let us forget it." 

"Sheriff of the year award. Is he still waiting in the lobby?" 

"Yeah, along with your mom, Jordan, and Heather. I told them we'd want some time alone with Christopher. I hope that's okay." 

"Of course," Tessa smiles softly at him, tilting her chin up for another kiss that Scott happily supplies, "I'm glad you did." 

"And I texted your brothers. They're both sad that they couldn't be here for Christmas this year, but they said to tell you congratulations and that they're planning on visiting for New Year's." 

"That was thoughtful of you, thank you." 

Tessa's gaze drops back to their son, continuing to memorize his tiny features. She'd fallen in love the instant she'd heard his cry - loud and strong - and somehow it feels as if he's already always been part of their family forever. 

"He's perfect. Who do you think he looks like? You or me?" Scott asks quietly, marveling at him just like she is. 

"I don't know. His hair is darker than Alisa's - that must come from you." 

"Do you think he'll have green eyes?" His voices tilts up hopefully at the end, and Tessa can't help smiling at him even as she shakes her head. 

"I having a feeling those will go darker like his sister's."

"Oh," Scott sighs in obvious disappointment. 

"Why are you sad? I like your eyes. I'm glad our children match them." 

"But  _your_ eyes are gorgeous," Scott insists, "Maybe the next one, eh?" 

"Don't," Tessa covers his mouth with her free hand and shakes her head, "Don't even talk to me about that right now."

Scott nods solemnly and Tessa frees his mouth, just in time for his phone to start buzzing. 

"It's a text from my mom," Scott says, scrolling through the message, "She says the main roads have been cleared enough to get through and she’s on her way with my dad and Alisa.”

“Oh good! I can’t wait for Alisa to meet him. Do you think they’ll get along?”

The prospect of Alisa, who had struggled to understand exactly what was happening to her mother the past nine months (and is convinced all stomachs are called "baby"), meeting her little brother is one that Tessa has dreamed of with anticipation. But now that the moment's almost arrived, she's almost terrified that it won't go well. 

“Um, well, she’s a toddler and he’s an infant so I’m not sure how much interacting they’re going to do just yet,” Scott chuckles.

“You know what I mean,” Tessa rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder against his and leaning into his side when Scott drapes his arm around her. 

“I’m sure they will. They're going to be _best_ friends, I just know it.”

 

 

"That's probably my mom," Scott says a little while later after their quiet reverie (during which they manage to be fascinated by every little sound and movement their son makes) is interrupted by a knock on the door, getting out of bed and going over to answer it.

"Congratulations, Scott!"

Tessa bursts out laughing, but quickly smothers it when she nearly wakes up Christopher. It's obvious that Alma thought she was being quiet, but Tessa's pretty sure the entire maternity ward must have heard her. She can tell from Scott's voice as he responds that he's laughing too - probably thinking exactly the same thing she is.  

"I'm going to take Lis in first and then I'll come back out and get you guys, okay?" Tessa hears him say, and she's grateful for his foresight. She wants a moment with just the four of them before the rest of the world descends, even if she loves that world dearly. 

"Of course, Scottie," Alma replies, the tears she must be shedding obvious in her mother-in-law's voice, "You should have this moment alone with your family. The rest of us can wait." 

"Go celebrate with Tess and Lis. We'll still be here when you're ready," Joe adds and it sounds like they're all hugging in the doorway. 

"Thanks, Mom and Dad," Scott replies, his voice thick, before reemerging in the hospital room with Alisa in tow. 

"Sick?" Alisa asks immediately at the sight of Tessa looking so disheveled and still in bed, her face scrunching up like Scott's does when he's worried.

"No honey, Mommy's not sick," Tessa laughs, shifting over as best she can to make room for Scott to get back in the bed with her. He's extra careful to keep Alisa from bumping into Christopher, who's blinking slowly as he stares up at the bright lights.  _Milk drunk and sleepy_ , Tessa thinks with a giggle, caressing his soft little cheek. The corner of his mouth curves up in a little smile in response. 

She knows it's not a  _real_ smile, he's too young for that, but it makes her heart swoop and burst into confetti all the same. 

“This is your little brother, Lis," Scott explains, answering the unspoken question in Alisa's wide, curious eyes, "This is Christopher.”

“Toph?” She asks, looking back at Scott for the answer. 

“Yeah,” Scott chuckles, “Close enough.”

“Oh no. Don’t teach her that. It’s not his name," Tessa cuts in, " _Christopher_ , can you try that, honey?" 

"Toph!” Alisa says again, pointing at the baby and smiling, "Baby Toph!"

She surprises them both by leaning down - nearly toppling over before Scott catches her - and kissing Christopher's head. 

Tears prick the corners of Tessa's eyes and threaten to spill over at the simple sweetness of the action, and when she looks up she can see Scott's eyes are the same. 

"I think that name's gonna stick, T," He purses his lips together to keep from laughing, his face shining with pure joy, and Tessa huffs - trying and failing to keep the radiant smile off of her face. 

_Not if I can help it._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me for this story. I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry!
> 
> As always, any mistakes are sadly mine and a result of midnight editing. Oops!


	10. September 2023

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott spends some time alone with the kids while Tessa is in NYC for Fashion Week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hasn't been two weeks between chapters this time, guys! Yay!

** it takes two, baby (it takes two) **

****

**_Monday, September 11, 2023_ **

**_London, Ontario_ **

****

“Come _on_ , Daddy! Let’s go!” Alisa drags out the O as she tugs sharply on his hand, tugging him along with an impressive amount of strength for a three-and-a-half year old child.

“Why are we rushing? We just got here,” Scott replies while shifting his hold on Toph, the diaper bag-slash-backpack Tessa bought him hanging precariously off one shoulder, and trying to keep Alisa from running into the middle of the parking lot.

The multi-story beige brick building of the London Children’s Museum looms in front of them, warm and inviting in the bright sunlight, and the little girl can’t seem to get there fast enough.

“I wanna see the dinosaurs!” Alisa explains, pointing to the giant triceratops statue by the entrance with glee, " _All_ of them!"

“ROAR!” Toph growls loudly in response to his sister, making a clawing motion with his chubby little hand, and Scott laughs and allows her to lead the way. Practically jogging along to keep up. 

He should have known she’d have this reaction. Alisa had been on a bit of a dinosaur kick ever since they’d watched _The Land Before Time_ two months ago and it’s a bit scary how she’s managed to absorb so much information in such a short time. It’s also kind of impressive that she’d managed to teach Toph to recognize dinosaurs and make sounds for them as well. 

The way Alisa carefully pronounces all of the complicated names and Toph tries to mimic her never fails to make both him and Tess laugh, and there must be well over a dozen separate videos on each of their phones documenting it.

Scott pays for their tickets, apologizing to the teenager at the counter for his daughter's impatience, and as soon as Alisa’s hand is stamped she’s off like a shot in search of any large reptile that she can find (but specifically diplodocus, which is her current favorite).

Toph wiggles incessantly until Scott puts him down and lets him toddle after his sister, and Scott snaps a quick picture of them to send to Tessa.

 

 **Scott:** I’ve been officially replaced by the T-Rex.

 

It takes a few minutes, but eventually his phone chimes with a response and Scott reads it with a smile.

 

 **Tessa:** Well, she told me two weeks ago that she wished she was a parasaurolophus instead of a girl, so I’m not surprised. 

 

 **Scott:** I don’t even know what that is. 

 

 **Tessa:** Apparently their heads look like bananas, and she likes that.

 

 **Scott:** This girl is too smart for me, T.

 

Scott looks up from his phone just in time to catch Toph trying to put some dirt from the paleontology pit in his mouth and he reaches out to stop him, swatting it away despite his son’s protests.

“We don’t eat sand, buddy,” Scott explains gently, “We dig for bones in here. See?”

He picks up one of the shovels and shows Toph how to use it, helping him sift through the sand and dirt and rocks. Alisa joins in too, grabbing a few fossils and showing them to Toph.

“See, Toph? Bones,” She points at the skeleton, making her voice wobble on the vowels like she would if she were a ghost to sound extra spooky, and Toph giggles.

Glancing back at his phone, Scott finds another message waiting for him from Tessa.

         

 **Tessa:** I wish I could be there with you. Give them two big kisses from me. <3

 

 **Scott:** I will. We miss you.

 

 **Tessa:** I miss you too.

 

She adds one of the kissing emojis that she’s always trying to convince him to adopt (which he only does when he’s had a few beers and is feeling sappy… usually sending them to her when she’s sitting next to him on the couch, just to make her laugh), and Scott smiles.

When Marie-France had asked Tessa to accompany her to Fashion Week in New York City this year, Tessa had almost said no. She hadn’t attended in a long time, too busy moving to Ilderton and having two young children, and she’d been about to refuse again when Scott found out and accepted the invitation for her and insisted that she take the time to attend this year. 

Does he like that she’s gone for two whole weeks? Of course not. But the opportunity was too good to pass up again and she deserves a chance to get out there and spend time with the other designers in her field and receive all the accolades and bask in the acclaim of her peers.

In short, he's damn proud of his wife's successes and he wants the world to be, too. 

His phone chimes with another message and he puts down the big rock that Alisa had handed him, moving it out of the way so she can continue to dig, and moves to answer it.

**Tessa:** Are you sure you can survive without me? ;)

 

Scott laughs and sends her another picture of the kids digging up fossils in response.

She’d been worried about leaving for so long – the longest they’ve been apart in five years – and he can picture her now, surrounding by cocktails and celebrities, fiddling with her ring and feeling guilty.

It's not because she doesn’t think Scott can handle the kids alone (he’s a great dad, thank you very much!), but because Toph is verging on the Terrible Two’s and Alisa is very much a “threenager” these days (it turns out their daughter can _sulk)_ and that can make things hard sometimes if either kid gets in a mood _._

But right now, looking at his smiling, happy kids, Scott feels totally unbothered.

There haven’t been any problems with daycare, no fighting, they’ve gone to bed on time every night with their teeth brushed and no arguments (other than wishing Tessa was there to sing lullabies). Frankly, it’s been almost like something out of a dream.

A toy dinosaur bites his knee and Scott looks down to find Toph grinning up at him and making the cutest little gnawing sounds as he plays, and Scott affectionately ruffles his son’s curls. 

Feeling cheerful and full of confidence, Scott sends her another text with an easy grin.

 

 **Scott:** One week down, five days left to go. I’ve got this, T.

 

* * *

 

**_Tuesday, September 12_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

 

“The contractors swear the place will be completely done by Monday and ready for us to move in,” Uncle Paul promises over the phone, making Scott’s eyes roll even as he hums in acknowledgment.

“That’s great, Paul. It’ll be nice to finally have the place finished and ready to open.”

Nice in that it will _finally_ be a load off Scott’s mind.

When Paul had suggested they expand the skate shop and open another store in Toronto, Scott had been all for it, but now after two years of scouting properties and working with contractors and completion dates coming and going without being met, he mostly just wants it _done_.

“I know it’s been a bit of a hassle, but barring some sort of natural disaster we should make our opening date next month,” Paul replies, sounding apologetic, and Scott sits up a little straighter in Tessa’s office chair and tries to infuse some enthusiasm into his voice. The last thing he needs is for his uncle, who has always been a tireless and dedicated worker and partner, to feel the misplaced brunt of his frustrations.

“No, no. Stuff happens and we knew that when we picked an older building to move into downtown. It’s going to be great, Paul, really. This was a good idea. Thank you for all the hard work you’ve put in.”

"You’re welcome, Scott. I just hope it’s worth it.”

“It will be,” Scott nods reassuringly, even though he knows his uncle can’t see him through the phone, “We’ll see you at dinner on Wednesday?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss your dad’s barbecue for the world.”

“Great. See you then!”

Scott tosses his cell phone onto Tessa’s desk and rubs his eyes. Someday the second shop will be open (hopefully in October, as planned), and then this weight will be lifted off his shoulders. Juggling two jobs in Ilderton is more than enough for him and he’ll be quite happy to go back to that once the Toronto shop is up and running.

With a heavy sigh Scott gets up and walks down the hallway towards Alisa’s room where he’d left the kids playing while he took the call from Paul, expecting to find her dressing Toph up like a cowboy or a prince or a firefighter again. She loves to play make-believe and easy-going Toph is usually the perfect prop.

Instead what he finds nearly makes his head explode.

“Lis, what _happened?_ ” He asks, dropping to his knees to inspect the damage more closely. Her arms and torso are covered in multicolored scribbles and the obvious culprit is sitting two feet away drawing zigzags on his leg with a black Sharpie.

Scott quickly plucks it out of his hand and puts the cap on, ignoring the way Toph cries out and tries to get it back. 

"They’re _tattoos_ ,” Alisa explains, making Scott feel like an idiot with a simple look, “Like the elephants Mommy has right here.”

She points to her hip over the same spot where Tessa had two little elephants done last February, and Scott sighs and sits down next to her. How exactly do you explain the difference between a meaningful tattoo and scribbles to a toddler? And he can’t exactly be upset with Toph for doing something his sister clearly asked for.

 _Tessa is going to love this_ , he thinks, wondering how exactly he’s going to explain this to her. There’s no way it’ll wash off completely before she gets home on Sunday, but he’ll try his best.

_Two baths a day for the rest of the week. Three if that doesn't help._

“Lissa, honey, Mommy’s tattoo is special. One elephant is for you and the other is for Toph. She didn’t let somebody scribble nonsense all over her.”

“I _know_ ,” Alisa rolls her eyes in a perfect imitation of Tessa, although Scott would never tell his wife that, and explains each of the markings one by one.

“This one is you,” She points at the blue triangular scribbles on her upper left arm, “And this one is Mommy,” she points to the red lines on her stomach, “And this one is Toph.” She finishes proudly, gesturing to the long black lines on her right arm that _almost_ could look like a hockey stick, if he squints and uses his imagination.

“I see,” He hesitates. Now he _really_ doesn’t know how to scold her, because she’s just following Tessa’s example, even if she's a bit misguided.

“Lissa, honey, I love that you wanted to be like Mommy and have tattoos that represent your family, but we don’t do that with markers, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not really safe for your skin. It could hurt you. Mommy’s tattoo has special ink that makes it safe.”

“Can I have one?”

“Maybe when you’re older,” Scott replies, even though the thought of her being old enough to go out and get a tattoo is totally incongruous with the permanent mental image he has of her as a newborn.

Sometimes he forgets in the mornings just how big she’s getting and is surprised all over again when he sees her climbing into bed between him and Tess. He can’t imagine how it will be when she’s an adult. An adult possibly getting  _tattoos_. 

"Can I have chocolate now?" She beams at him with dimpled cheeks - the smile she seems to already know he can't resist - and Scott huffs out a laugh, shaking his head at the rapid, yet unsurprising, change of topic and dropping a quick kiss to the top of her head. 

 _She's not an adult quite yet_. 

"Okay, Lissa-Lou, let's go get some chocolate." 

 

* * *

 

**_Wednesday, September 13_ **

**_Joe & Alma Moir House, Ilderton, Ontario _ **

****

“So anyway, that’s how I ended up in the emergency room with Cruz getting the peas out of his nose. We’ve had a serious talk with Shea about that, haven’t we?” Nicole finishes her story with a stern look at her middle son, who’s sitting next to his little brother at the giant picnic table in Joe & Alma's backyard with a frown that could rival Winston Churchill. 

“I just wanted to know how many would fit up there,” Shea grumbles, messily chewing on his potato chips with a glower.

“The answer is five, believe it or not,” Charlie tells them, trying to contain his chuckle under his wife’s watchful eyes so that his son doesn't feel encouraged, but somewhat failing.

"It could have been six," Shea tacks on under his breath, and Scott has to stifle his own laugh with his hand. 

“I’ve got a crazy story,” Danny starts, sitting forward a little in his chair and reaching for the pitcher of lemonade to fill up Charlotte’s glass, “The other day I’m working at the station, cleaning the trucks and organizing equipment, just a quiet afternoon, right? When this woman comes in with an actual World War Two era grenade. I kid you not – it still had the pin in it and everything. I’ve never seen my team move so quickly in their lives.”

“You never mentioned that!” Alma cries out in horror, “When did this happen? Was everyone alright?”

“Don’t worry, Ma,” Danny rushes to reassure her, “It was two days ago and everything and everyone are fine, but we had to call in the bomb squad in from London to take care of it. They said it was likely still a live munition. She’s lucky it never went off in her garage!”

“What the fuck!”

The laughter and amazement at Danny's story freezes as over a dozen pairs of eyes turn to stare at the toddler currently sitting in the high-chair next to Scott with his hand stretched out towards his dad.

“Scott, I think your son just swore at my dinner table,” Joe says slowly, and Scott can see that more than a few people are covering their mouths and trying not to laugh.

“Where did he learn that one, eh Scottie?” Danny smirks, grinning wider when Scott shoots a glare at him.

“What the _fuck_!” Toph says again, louder this time and more insistent, and Scott can feel his cheeks turning bright red.

“Toph, buddy, we don’t say that word.”

“Yeah, right,” Charlie snorts and there are titters of laughter around the table, "Only on days that end in Y." 

“FUCK!” Toph shouts, clearly impatient and frustrated at not being understood, and Scott looks helplessly at his mother. She raised three boys. Boys who had been known to mouth off a time or two. Surely she must have an answer here. Some sort of solution for how to get his son to stop dropping the F bomb at their nice family backyard barbecue.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Scott,” His mom answers his unspoken question, the look in her eyes a mixture of censure and barely contained mirth, “He had to have learned it from somewhere.”

“But Tess and I don’t swear around the kids,” Scott explains, trying desperately to defend himself and his absent wife, “I promise.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never sworn while watching hockey with them? Not _once_?” Danny asks in disbelief, and Scott ducks his head.

His brother may have a point there.

Maybe.

But he’s never heard Toph, or Alisa, for that matter, repeat one of the curse words he may have let slip out a time or two while watching sports. Or that Tessa might have muttered when working on a particularly difficult or frustrating project.

Of course the first time had to be at a big family dinner. Of- _fucking_ -course.

“Dada, what the fuck!” Toph tries again, grabbing the part of Scott’s sleeve that he can reach and tugging as hard as he can.

At that moment, just as Scott is beginning to lose all hope of getting a handle on the situation and ever living this down, Alisa looks up from her own hot dog, ketchup and mustard smeared around her mouth, and says very calmly, “He wants a fork, Dad.”

A chorus of _ohhhh_ erupts around the table as Scott sheepishly hands the utensil to his son, who smiles happily and begins to try to stab the small pieces of hot dog currently spread around his tray – completely oblivious to the embarrassment he’d caused.

“Right… _see?_ I knew I hadn’t taught him to swear,” Scott mumbles half-heartedly, only to be met with raucous laughter from all of the adults at the table.

“That’s one for the Moir history books right there,” His cousin Cara chuckles, “I love when kids slip up like that. You have to write that story down.”

“Don’t worry, Scott,” His dad reaches across the table to pat him on the shoulder, his eyes twinkling, “We promise not to tease Toph about this until he’s a teenager.”

“ _You_ on the other hand,” Danny chimes in, “We’re going to tease forever.”

 

* * *

 

**_Thursday, September 14_ **

**_Ilderton Police Station_ **

****

“You’re sure you’re not too busy? The kids wanted to come by and see the cool cars,” Scott greets his brother as he walks into the police station, both kids in tow and his car parked outside. They'd been on their way to London to do a big grocery run and buy new sheets for the bed since Scott had failed to notice Toph's new red shirt was in the load of white laundry he had to do, when Alisa had asked to see Uncle Charlie's work. 

She'd been begging to see the police cars for the past few weeks and he’d promised they could go visit Charlie while Tessa was in New York, and it had seemed like the perfect idea for a Thursday afternoon outing.  

“Of course not,” Charlie takes Toph from his arms and holds up his hand for a high-five, one that Toph happily returns with as enthusiastic of a slap as he can manage, “Let’s go see the lights! And maybe, just _m_ _aybe_ , I’ll turn on the sirens for you guys.”

Charlie takes them out into the large garage and Scott helps an animated Alisa into the driver’s seat of Charlie’s cruiser.

“This button right here turns on the lights, Lis,” Charlie points, showing Alisa what to push to turn them on, which she does with a relish.

"I can’t see them,” She complains, looking up in disappointment at her uncle, “It’s broken, Uncle Charlie.”

“It’s not broken, kiddo,” Scott chuckles, “They’re on the roof of the car. You have to be out here to see them.”

“Oh. Show me!”

Scott lifts her out of the car so that she can watch the lights dancing, flashing blinding shades of red and blue, the color bouncing off the walls.

“Do you want to hear the siren?” Charlie asks with a mischievous grin, and Alisa nods at him, her little head bobbing up and down and making her haphazard ponytail sag to the side (Scott’s trying, but he still hasn’t mastered doing his daughter's hair yet. It's so much more _complicated_ \- he doesn't know how Tess always makes it look so easy).

“Cover your ears!”

Charlie tugs a beanie over Toph’s head to help protect him and then turns the siren on, the wailing and beeping so much louder indoors than it is when careening past them on the street, and it doesn’t take long before Alisa is shouting at him to turn it off.

“What’d’ya think?” Charlie asks with a grin, laughing when Alisa scrunches up her nose in distate.

“It’s too loud.”

“Yeah, in here it definitely is. Do you want to try on a uniform?”

Alisa, who loves playing dress-up of any kind, immediately nods her head and Charlie hands Toph back to Scott so that he can lead her back inside – taking her into their dressing room and over to his locker area. Spotting a can of soda on his brother's shelf, Scott steals it with a shit-eating grin and pops it open.

“It’s going to be a little big on you,” Charlie warns before helping her put on one of his shirts and pinning his badge to her chest.

“Picture, Daddy!” Alisa demands, striking a pose like the kinds she’s seen on Tessa’s computer, and Scott happily acquiesces – taking a few extra just for good measure. She looks adorable in the gigantic shirt with the hat falling sideways off her head, and he sends one of the snaps immediately off to Tess.

“Wanna see,” She reaches her hands out, “On your phone.”

Scott hands it over to her and Alisa looks at herself with delight, giggling as she taps the screen a few times until she finds the camera and can take pictures of herself.

It never ceases to amaze him how quickly kids pick up technology. She’s better than he is most days, which is something Tessa just _loves_ to tease him about.

“What are those called?” Alisa points to the shiny silver handcuffs hanging from Charlie’s belt, and he lifts them up in question.

“These? They’re called handcuffs.”

“My Mommy and Daddy have handcuffs, too,” Alisa replies matter-of-factly and Scott chokes on his soda, nearly spraying Pepsi all over his kids and brother.

“Do they?” Charlie looks up at him with unfettered delight and Scott can feel his cheeks heating up. He thought that by thirty-six he couldn’t be embarrassed in front of his brothers anymore, but apparently he was wrong. This might be the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to him in years, if not ever, and he’s never going to hear the end of it.

“Yep!” Alisa answers with a loud pop on the P, “But Mommy said I’m not allowed to play with them. What do you use them for?”

“ _I_ use them to catch bad guys,” Charlie says, pursing his lips together to try to keep from laughing, but the looks he keeps throwing at Scott give away just how hilarious he finds this entire conversation.

Alisa’s face grows cloudy as she ponders Charlie’s answer for a moment, before she asks solemnly, “Does that mean Daddy is a bad guy?”

Charlie barks out a laugh that echoes around the garage and Scott _would_ slug him on the shoulder if he weren’t very aware of how that would look to his children and the potential for accidentally teaching them violent behavior.

Instead, he makes a quick mental note to get his brother back later.

“No,” Charlie finally manages to say, still laughing, “No, your dad’s not a bad guy. At least not until your mom tells him he is, I guess.”

“ _Charlie!”_ Scott hisses, stepping on his brother's foot and glaring at him furiously, which only makes Charlie laugh harder.

“Sorry, sorry,” Charlie holds up his hands and steps away - genuine tears in the corners of his eyes, “I’m so texting Danny about this. He’s going to die.”

Charlie pulls his phone out of his back pocket and Scott nearly gives in to the impulse to swat it away, but he manages to refrain at the last second – choosing instead to guide Alisa around to where a few of the motorcycles are parked, “Let’s check these out, Lis. Look how cool.”

Thankfully that seems to be enough to distract Alisa and Scott pulls out his phone to check the message he’d just received – assuming that he’ll find something from Danny. Probably either incredibly lewd or incredibly embarrassing.

Instead he finds a message from Tessa.

 

 **Tessa** : Charlie just sent me the handcuff emoji and a wink. Care to explain?

 

Resolving to murder his brother, Scott taps out a reply.

 

 **Scott:** It’s nothing. I’ll tell you when you get home.

 

That is, as long as he's not in prison for fratricide by then. 

 

* * *

 

**_Friday, September 15_ **

**_Scott & Tessa’s House _ **

****

“Corduroy is a bear who once lived in a toy department of a big store. Day after day he waited with all the animals and dolls for somebody to come along and take him home. The store was always filled with shoppers buying all sorts of things, but no one ever seemed to want a bear in green overalls.”

Scott can feel himself starting to doze off, the words slurring as he tries to read them to Toph. It’s their fourth book in a row and that, combined with the heat of the afternoon sun warming up the bedroom, along with Scott’s exhaustion, has him struggling to keep his eyes open as he tries to put Toph down for his nap.

The fact is, he hasn’t been sleeping well. He never does when Tessa’s not home, and she’s never been gone quite so long. It’s beginning to wear on him. He misses her body next to him in bed, her smell, her warmth, waking up to her smile in the morning.

Frankly, he misses his wife.

And this whole being a temporary single parent thing has _maybe_ been a little harder than he’d anticipated. He has a whole new appreciation for parents who do this on their own full-time, because it hasn’t even been two full weeks and he already feels like he could sleep for three days straight, just to recover.

“Then one morning a little girl stopped by and looked straight into Corduroy’s bright eyes. ‘Oh, Mommy,’ she said-“

“Mommy!” Toph interrupts, bouncing up and down, “Mommy! Mommy!”

“Yeah, bud,” Scott yawns, “I know you miss Mommy, but she’ll be home soon. Let’s keep reading. Try to fall asleep."

He blinks heavily, struggling to keep his eyelids open and continue reading, “’Look! That’s the very bear I’ve always wanted.’ ‘Not today, dear, I’ve spent too much already,’ her mother sighed, ‘Besides, he doesn’t look new. He’s lost a button to one of his shoulder straps.’”

Scott’s voice trails off and his eyelids finally fall closed against his will, and his last conscious thought is that he hopes Toph's are doing the same.

 

 

When he jerks awake a little while later, the sun has sunk lower in the sky, Toph is gone, and the house is entirely too quiet.

 _"SHIT!”_ He shouts, shooting up out of the rocking chair and flying out of Toph’s bedroom and into the hallway, “Toph!? Lis!?”

He’d left Alisa playing with her Barbie’s in her bedroom while he put Toph down, and she’s normally really good about staying in there, but when he opens the door he finds the dolls in their beds and his daughter nowhere in sight.

“ALISA!” He tries again, feeling desperate.

_If anything’s happened to them I’ll never forgive myself._

He heads for the staircase, intending to go downstairs and continue hunting for them, but the child gate is still shut and he knows Alisa hasn’t quite figured out how to manage it yet, so they must be _somewhere_ upstairs.

A giggle comes from the direction of the master bedroom and Scott follows it, trying to calm his racing heart and prevent either a panic attack or a heart attack, he isn’t sure which is more likely at the moment.

They aren’t in the bedroom, but he can hear Alisa jabbering about something and Toph’s answering babble of nonsense, so he follows the sounds around the corner and into the master bathroom.

There, sitting in the middle of the white tile floor, is Alisa with Tessa’s pair of barber shears in her hand - the ones that she uses to cut his hair sometimes (the same ones they’d purchased when they were teenagers, because they both tend to be sentimental about weird things sometimes) - and Toph.

Toph, who that morning had a full head of curls.

Toph, who now has big chunks of hair missing, lying in scattered heaps around him on the floor.

“ _Alisa Jane!_ ” Scott yells, forcing himself to calm down and breathing deeply when Alisa looks up at him in alarm – her hazel eyes widening in shock. “Lis,” He tries again, keeping his voice as steady as he can, “Did you cut Toph’s hair?”

“Yes,” She replies, honest, but sounding unsure now that she realizes he's upset.

“Why did you do that, honey?” Scott sits down next to them, taking the scissors from her hands and putting them high up on the counter where neither of them can reach.

“Mommy cuts your hair sometimes, so I cut Toph’s,” She explains like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to have done, “It was getting long. Was that bad, Daddy? Are you mad?”

She sounds so worried and there are tears in the corners of her eyes and although he probably _should_ be mad, Scott’s never been very great at staying angry at his kids.

“It was bad, Lis, because you could have hurt yourself or Toph with the scissors. But I’m not mad. We’ll have Mommy fix it when she gets home and it’ll be okay.”

“I was trying to help.”

“I know, Lissa-Lou,” Scott sighs, pulling both her and Toph into his lap – the little boy _finally_ starting to nod off. He drops a kiss to the top of her head as he smooths her hair back from her face, holding her close and reassuring her that it’s alright.

He knows he’s going to laugh about this later. It’ll become one of those stories you tell. One of those _remember when’s._ But right now...

How on earth is he going to explain this to Tessa.

****

* * *

 

_**S** _ _**unday,** _ _September 17_

****

“What happened to Toph’s hair?”

Those are the first words out of Tessa’s mouth as she walks into the family room, dropping her bags on the floor and finding Scott playing Hungry Hungry Hippos with Alisa and Toph. The little boy is surprisingly pretty good at smashing the lever and getting his blue hippo to eat the balls rolling around in the middle, despite not having a clue what’s going on.

Scott had kept a hat on his head anytime they went out anywhere, but here at home he’d figured they were safe. He’d just forgotten it would be the first thing Tessa would notice.

“Alisa found the scissors in the bathroom on Friday. You can fix it, right?”

“You did _not_ mention this when we talked on the phone Friday, _or_ last night,” Tessa states, kicking off her shoes and sitting down on the floor beside him, running her hand through his hair when he leans over to softly kiss her knee.

“Welcome home,” He whispers instead of answering her, and Tessa hums happily – scooping up a joyous Toph who looks like he couldn’t care less about his father or the game now that his mother has returned.

“Hi, Mommy!” Alisa grins, sticking out her arms, “I have tattoos like you!”

The marks have mostly faded, but they’re still visible, and Scott winces. Thankfully, Tessa only gives him a quick sideways glance before smiling back at Alisa.

“I can see that. Did you do those?”

“No, Toph did them. This one is for Daddy, and this one is for Toph, and this one is for _YOU_!”

“They’re very pretty,” Tessa tells her, trying to speak around Toph as he practically strangles her with his hug, latching onto her like a little koala bear.

“I guess maybe I can’t survive without you, after all,” Scott mumbles, protesting when Tessa reaches out and playfully flicks his ear.

“You did a great job. Kids do stuff like this, Scott. Honestly, I would have been worried if I’d come home and _nothing_ had gone wrong. That would have meant you're really Super Dad and I could never compete.”

“So you’re not mad about Toph’s hair?”

“It’s a little jarring, but I’ll cut it so that it’s even and it will grow back,” Tessa shrugs, planting a kiss on top of Toph’s raggedy head, “I’m just glad to be home.”

“Has New York lost its thrill, then?”

“No, it’s magical and I hope one of these years you can come with me, but it’s not _home_.”

“I’m glad to hear it," Scott sits up and leans in to kiss his wife, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck so that he can hold her in place and deepen the kiss.

Tessa sighs the second his lips meet hers, sinking fully into the pressure, and the pure pleasure of having her in his arms again is enough that Scott can feel himself stirring – the blood in his head rushing to other, more _southerly_ places.

“So I’m thinking, and just hear me out here,” He begins, pulling away just enough so that he can speak, but pressing his forehead to hers, and Tessa makes a happy little sound in the back of her throat, “We eat dinner, put the kids to bed, and then…”

He lets his voice trail off suggestively and Tessa opens her eyes to meet his, her green eyes flashing with heated expectation.

“And _then_ I have a surprise for you,” She says, a slow, coy smile spreading across her face.

“A surprise?” He perks up like a puppy, instantly interested in what exactly she might have brought back with her from New York.

“Mhmm,” Tessa hums, chewing on her bottom lip as she nods slowly.

“Is it… a keychain?” Scott asks, watching as she maneuvers her way to standing with Toph still in her arms.

“No,” Tessa laughs as she heads towards the kitchen, and Scott picks up Alisa and follows after her.

“Is it an I heart NY t-shirt?”

“Warmer, but no.”

“A snowglobe?”

“Nope!” She replies, popping the P just like Alisa does, and Scott smiles to himself at the similarities, “You’ll just have to be patient and see.”

Patient. He can try to be that. 

 

 

A few hours later Scott rubs his bleary eyes as he steps into the master bedroom, trying to force the tired ache away as the past two weeks catch up to him.

“Remember when we used to be able to stay up all night with no consequences? I miss that,” He says, assuming that when he drops his hands he’ll find Tessa already snuggled up in bed.

Instead he finds her sitting on the edge of the mattress, her arms stretched out behind her and propping her up, looking at him like he’s a fancy chocolate dessert and she’s going to devour him whole.

She’s wearing a silky, black robe that barely scrapes the top of her thighs and the most sinful black lingerie that he’s ever seen. Sheer in all the right places, only the barest scraps of lace protecting her modesty, strappy and accentuated with little bows as if that will somehow make it more modest, and completed by a garter belt and thigh-high stockings.

She looks, in a word, stunning.

“I picked this up in New York. Do you like it?” Tessa arches her back, purposely emphasizing her breasts and the way the bra pushes them up a little, a wicked flash of heat in her eyes. 

“ _Like_ it?” Scott splutters, picking his jaw up off the floor. Any trace of exhaustion he’d had completely blown away at the sight of her.

“Yes, Scott,” Tessa says patiently, sauntering over to him with an extra sway in her hips, the robe falling open and giving him an unobstructed view of the entire ensemble, “Do. You. Like. It?”

She emphasizes each word slowly, dragging her fingernails down his chest until they reach the hem of his shirt and slip underneath to stroke his abs – making them contract as he sucks in a harsh breath.

He wants to answer her. He does. But the connection between his brain and his mouth seems to have been totally obliterated. Instead he can only groan as she moves her hand lower and cups his growing erection, squeezing him through his jeans.

“You _do_ like it. I can tell,” She smirks, “I have another surprise that I think you’ll like, too.”

Tessa turns around and walks back over to the bed, letting the robe fall off her shoulders as she goes and land in a pool on the floor, and Scott follows her almost without conscious thought, his eyes slowly moving down her spine and over her ass to – are those _words_?

There’s something written on the seam going up the back of her stockings and he has to tilt his head sideways to read the loopy font.

_whip me. bite me. eat me. tease me._

“Holy fucking hell, Tess,” He chokes, finding his voice at last and tracing the letters that are easiest to reach. His index finger following where the end of the little e turns into one long line heading up towards the top of her thigh. “New York really is the concrete jungle dreams are made of.”

Tessa makes a breathless little sound somewhere between a laugh and a whimper, goosebumps appearing across her skin as he continues touching her - taking the stockings instructions to heart and kissing his way down her spine while she shudders.

“Wait. Wait, not yet,” She turns around and holds up her hand, handcuffs dangling from her fingers, and Scott bursts out a laughing.

“What’s so funny?” She pouts, an tiny crease appearing between her eyebrows. In an instant the vixen is gone and his adorable Tessa is back, “Do you not want to use these tonight?”

“It’s not that,” Scott explains, still chuckling, “It’s just – that’s why Charlie texted you those emojis. Alisa saw his handcuffs and told him her mommy and daddy had some, too.”

“Oh my god,” Tessa’s face turns beet red and the handcuffs fall to the floor, “I thought he was just being _Charlie_ , or maybe it was an accidental text. I’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again!”

“It’s fine, T,” Scott moves to reassure her, rubbing her upper arms, “I’m sure he’s already forgotten about it.”

“Or told Danny and the two of them are coming up with all the ways they can tease us about this forever,” Tessa shoots back, chewing on her bottom lip and rubbing away some of her dark lipstick – a job that Scott would much rather be doing himself.

“Or that,” He concedes with another chuckle.

In fact, he’s already received four texts from Charlie on the subject and two from Danny and one in a group chat between all three of them – each message more filthy than the last – but Tessa doesn’t need to know that.

“But don’t think about that right now. You had _plans_ for tonight and I’d hate to see this gorgeous lingerie go to waste. Who’s getting cuffed? Me or you?”

“You are,” Tessa announces, the vixen returning as her embarrassment recedes and she picks the cuffs back up off the floor, “Take off your clothes and lie down on your back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scott happily complies, stripping off his clothes and tossing them in the direction of the hamper before crawling onto the bed. Tessa slaps his ass once before he lies down, and he grins at her over his shoulder. “Just couldn’t resist, eh?”

She shrugs, looking entirely too innocent for someone dressed as she is and with such obviously impure thoughts.

“Are you gonna get naked too?” He smirks, looking her up and down and licking his lips. He loves the outfit, loves all her outfits, actually (she is a successful fashion designer, after all), but Tessa wearing nothing is the outfit he likes best.

“And waste this?” Tessa says, sounding vaguely offended, “Do you know how expensive this set was? It’s staying on the whole time.”

“The _whole_ time?” Scott whines. Surely she can’t be serious.

“The whole time,” Tessa repeats, leaning over his face to fasten the handcuffs to the bed frame – tight enough that he can’t slip his hands free, but loose enough that it doesn’t hurt - and gasping in surprise when he lifts his head up and licks her nipple through the thin layers that barely cover her.

“But I want my mouth on you,” He says, nipping at her skin and pouting when she pulls away and out of reach of his rebellious lips. With his hands tied, he’s helpless to do anything but watch and wait for her next move.

“Who’s in charge here?” Tessa chastises with a laugh, tweaking his nipple and making him jump.

“You are,” He answers quickly, then shrugs as best he can with his arms over his head, “I’m just telling you what I want. Just… for your general information. To take into consideration. In case maybe you needed some ideas.”

“Is that so? How thoughtful of you,” She throws one of her legs over his torso so that she’s straddling him and starts moving up his body, bringing her lower half closer to where he wants her, “Well, lucky for you that’s what I want too.”

“You’re not going to take your underwear off first?”

“I told you, it’s too expensive. Besides, you don’t think you can do the job with it on?”

“Oh, _I_ can do the job.”

She smiles at the challenge and lowers herself down over his face. Scott turns his head so that he can kiss up the inside of her thighs first, purposely ignoring where he knows she wants him and taking his time dragging his lips over as much of her as he can reach. Nipping and licking at the spots he knows are the most sensitive until Tessa weaves a hand through his hair and tugs sharply. 

"Stop messing around."

"Or what?" He asks, biting her thigh, and Tessa tugs his hair again.

"Or I'll make you."

She probably means for it to sound threatening, but since that's what he wants anyway, Scott gives in - swiping his tongue without warning against her folds through the thin silk - and Tessa moans loudly above him, one of her hands holding onto the bed frame for the support and the other moving to play with one of her nipples.

“Fuck, Tess, you’re already soaked.”

“Been thinking about this all day,” She pants, gasping and rutting her hips against him.

"Oh yeah?” He asks, finding her clit and sucking on it hard before switching back to long, slow licks meant to tease her – just like her stockings suggested.

“ _Yes._ All week, actually.”

“Were you imagining it like this? My face between your legs?”

“Yes,” She confesses breathlessly, moving faster against him, and Scott can feel her getting wetter through her underwear.

“Me too,” He says, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses over her and wishing desperately that he had the use of his hands. If not to touch her than at least to provide some relief for himself. The sight of her above him is almost enough to get him off, and she hasn’t even properly touched him yet.

He starts sucking on her clit in earnest, intending to make her come and come _hard,_ but just as he’s certain from her movements and the hitch in her voice that she’s about to reach her peak, Tessa lifts her hips away with a regretful whimper.

“What? No! What are you doing?” He asks desperately, trying and failing to prop his head up enough to reach her, “Come back.”

“Not yet.”

Her chest is heaving and there’s a light sheen of sweat on her body, but she breathes through it until she’s calm enough to continue with whatever her plan is – moving back down his body until she can kiss the frown off his face with sloppy wet kisses. Tasting herself on his tongue before continuing lower.

She moves like a panther and he’s her prey, dragging her fingers all across his chest then chasing the pathways with her tongue until she finally reaches his erection.

“I’ve been thinking about this, too,” She whispers against him, barely giving him any time to prepare before taking him into her mouth.

The metal handcuffs dig into his wrists as Scott tugs uselessly at them, desperate to bury his hand in her hair or the bedsheets or whatever's closest that he can reach to try and maintain some control.

Tessa’s mouth is hot and wet as she engulfs him – sucking him off  _exactly_ how he likes it. No slow teasing like he'd done to her. 

The noises she makes as she presses her tongue against him or swallows around the head of his cock, little moans and whimpers and contented, encouraging hums, have him thrusting helplessly into her mouth.

“Jesus, Tess! _Fuck!_ I’m almost- _Tessa_ ,” He drags out her name in one long groan as she lets him go with a wicked gleam in her eyes, leaving him hanging on the edge but refusing to do anything to push him the rest of the way over.

The air in their bedroom is cool and unpleasant on his dick, a sharp contrast to the space it just occupied, and Scott frowns at his wife when she sits up straight – looking for all the world as if there’s nothing wrong with what she's doing.  

“What?” She asks, sounding entirely too wholesome and demure and making him throw his head backwards into the pillow in frustration.

“You _know_ what. You’re killing me here!”

The corner of her mouth lifts up slowly and Tessa drags her thumbnails along the inside of his thighs, making him twitch, “Am I?”

“Yes!” He shouts, bucking his hips upwards to unbalance her and making her laugh as she gets knocked forward onto his chest.

Tessa’s still laughing when she leans up and kisses him long and hard, holding his face in her hands and controlling it completely. Scott tries to deepen the kiss, tries to tangle his tongue with hers, but Tessa pulls back from that too, and he can feel his frustration tipping over into annoyance.

“We’re apart for two weeks and all you want to do is play games?”

“Don’t you like my games?”

“Not this one, no,” Scott answers bluntly, “I don’t want to play anymore games right now.”

“What do you want then?” She asks, her face open and unguarded as she traces his features with the tips of her fingers, and Scott tells her exactly what's on his mind. 

“I want to watch you come around my cock as I bury myself inside you.”

She blinks at him owlishly for a moment before simply responding, “Okay,” and lightly shrugging one shoulder - sitting back up and positioning him between her legs.

Scott almost expects her to sink down immediately, to give into his request and drive them both to the peak of pleasure, but he should have known better. Instead he's forced to watch as she glides her fingers down the front of her body – both hands cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples before her right one continues its journey down between her legs.

Sitting how she is, hovering just above the tip of his cock so that he can feel the heat radiating from her, when her fingers finally slip between her folds the back of them bump up against him - just enough pressure to tease, but not enough to satisfy.

This isn’t what he’d asked for, but now that he’s watching her he can’t tear his eyes away.

“Does it feel good, T?” He hears himself ask, his voice deep and raspy and totally fucked, “Do you like touching yourself, knowing I’m watching you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tessa gasps, bucking her hips against her hand and pinching her nipple at the same time. He can see her fingers working underneath the sheer black underwear, sliding along her clit and circling her entrance, and the periodic scratch of the fabric against his cock when she pumps her fingers in and out nearly drives him insane.

God help him, but this might be the hardest he’s ever been in his life.

“You’re so gorgeous. Love watching you like this. Love the way you move. Love you.”

Tessa’s eyes find his and she smiles blissfully, “Love you.”

The hand working her breasts leaves its post to find his cock, lining him up at her entrance, and with a clever twist of her fingers Tessa moves her underwear out of the way so that she can sink down onto him - bringing them together in one long motion until he’s completely seated inside her.

She’s still touching herself as he stretches her, and he can feel her clenching around him – coming in waves as her orgasm hits her. Her moans echoing around the room while her cunt tightens around his cock like a vice - triggering his own release.

         

When Scott comes back to himself, the stars in his eyes fading as his breathing finally starts to slow to a speed _not_ rivaling a train barreling down the tracks, he opens his eyes to find Tessa digging around for the key and uncuffing his hands.

“Are you okay? They’re pretty red this time.”

She presses soft kisses to the bright circles on his skin, marks that will probably last a little while ( _good_ , he likes the reminder), and Scott hums while she massages the tender skin. The power of speech still evading him.

“You should have said something,” Tessa continues, sounding worried and apologetic, and Scott manages to pry his eyes back open to look at her with a sated smile.

“They don’t hurt, and you didn’t exactly hear me complaining, did you?”

“I guess not,” She sighs, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she continues her ministrations.

“Hey,” Scott pulls his hands free so that he can cup her face, pulling her in close and pressing his lips against hers once, twice, three times. Taking a minute just to breathe her in and bask in her presence, "Did I mention how glad I am that you’re home? Because I am.”

Pressing another kiss to her lips, Scott releases her face so that he can tuck her into his side, pulling the blankets over them. His eyelids are starting to droop and he knows he doesn’t have much longer before his post-orgasmic brain succumbs to sleep.

“Yeah, you may have mentioned it,” Tessa says quietly, the smile evident in her voice, and she tilts her head up to kiss his chest, “I’m glad, too. Was there anything else you wanted?”

Scott makes an affirmative little sound in the back of his throat and rolls over onto his side, hoping that Tessa will take the hint and spoon him, and she does. He can hear her unfastening her bra and tossing it somewhere over the side of the bed before she burrows her face between his shoulder blades - her breasts pressed up against his back - and throws an arm over his waist.

Her hand searches around until he finds it with his own and laces their fingers together, and he can feel rather than hear her little sigh when he does. 

 _This,_ he thinks simply,  _just this, forever_. 

         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #takebackthetag


	11. November 23, 2024

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes life repeats itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Miscarriage

** sitting, waiting, wishing **

****

**_November 23, 2024_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

****

“Good morning, Merry Sunshine! How do you wake so soon? You’ve frightened all the stars away and shined away the moon.”

Slowly the heavy weight of dreamless sleep slips away at the sound of three voices, one big and two small, singing the little good morning song that Tessa usually sings to wake up Alisa and Toph, and she rubs her eyelids – forcing herself to open them and blinking rapidly to adjust to the sun streaming in through the windows. Judging by how bright it is and the shadows on the wall, she’d guess it’s late morning. Much later than she normally sleeps.

 “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Scott grins at her as the kids climb up onto the bed, coming to rest on either side of Tessa underneath the fluffy comforter, and sets the large breakfast tray down over her lap.

“What’s all this?” Tessa asks in surprise, mouth watering as she stares down at the tray full of pieces of her favorite thick French toast and an assortment of fruit and a tall glass of orange juice, “Is it my birthday?”

“No!” Toph giggles and steals a slice of banana, popping it into his mouth with a self-satisfied smile.

“Did you do something naughty while I was gone?” She guesses again, tickling Alisa’s ribs and laughing when her daughter squirms away.

“No!” Alisa manages to reply, breathless and with her brown hair sticking up in every direction from the static electricity caused by her wriggling around.

“We just wanted to welcome you home,” Scott answers for them, bending over to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Both of you,” He adds, dropping his voice so that only she can hear him, and Tessa blushes and covers her stomach with her hand. It’s early yet, _so_ early, but that hasn’t stopped either of them from getting excited.

“I’m glad to be home,” She pulls him in for another kiss, a longer one this time to make up for the lack of kisses she’d gotten last night, and they both ignore the fact that their children are stealing more pieces of her breakfast as they briefly get lost in each other.

She’d returned late from Montreal the night before, the Uber driver dropping her off long after midnight, and she'd gone straight from dropping her bags in the entryway to swapping her traveling clothes for pajamas and climbing into bed.

It wasn’t her first trip to Montreal in the last year, or even the last month, and she can feel the exhaustion seeping into her bones and pores. Marie-France had been offered an amazing opportunity to do some work in Japan and had asked Tessa to take over while she was away, and although Tessa has loved every minute, she can’t wait for Marie to return home so that she can stop traveling back and forth so often.

There’s a reason she didn’t try to keep her company in Montreal when she came back to Scott, and the past few months have only reinforced her conviction that it was the right decision to make. It just simply isn’t sustainable long-term - especially not with two young children and another one on the way.

“Guess what, Mommy,” Toph sits up on his knees and starts chatting, his mouth so full of bananas that Scott has to stop him and remind him to chew first.

“What, honey?”

“I’m going ice skating today! Do you want to come with me?”

He practically bounces with excitement, nearly spilling her orange juice, and Tessa laughs as she puts her hand on his shoulder to help him calm down, “Of course, Toph! I can’t wait to go skating with you. And Alisa, too. We’re all going to celebrate Romy’s birthday.”

They’re supposed to go skating today – a birthday party for Kaitlyn and Andrew’s daughter, Romy, who’s turning two – and Tessa can’t wait to spend time with them and with Eric and Luis and Chiddy and Liz and their twins, Ian and Maggie. Life has been so busy lately, she’s hardly had time to breathe, let alone see her friends for longer than a few minutes.

“I don’t want to go,” Alisa pouts, burrowing deeper into the blankets and blowing her hair out of her eyes when it falls over her face.

“Why not, Lis?” Tessa asks, gently brushing the hair she’d missed away from her forehead.

“I just don’t.”

“She’s been telling me that for three days now,” Scott explains, rubbing Tessa's feet where they peek out from under the end of the blanket, and Tessa smiles appreciatively at him. She could really use a full body massage later when they’re alone – her lower back has been aching ever since yesterday afternoon. “But she won’t say why.”

“Lis, you told us you were excited to start skating. We signed you up for classes with Great Aunt Carol because you wanted it so badly. Why don’t you want to go today?” Tessa tries again, shifting her attention back to her daughter – although not missing for a second the way Toph uses her distraction to steal more food off her plate. He’s a little food vacuum, their son, and she has no idea where he puts it all.

“I just don’t like it,” Alisa grumbles, digging herself further into the mattress and pulling the blanket over her head, and Tessa looks at Scott for support.

He shrugs, a helpless gesture, and tries again, “Aunt Carol said you were doing a good job. Did you fall down?”

The blanket moves up and down and Tessa and Scott hum in unison at the revelation. No child likes to fall, but especially not Alisa. She’s only four and a half years old, but she already hates failure with a fiery passion.

“It’s okay to fall down sometimes, Lissa-Lou,” Scott says, shifting up higher on the bed so that he can climb underneath the blankets with her and pull her into a hug, “We all do it.”

“ _You_ don’t,” She accuses.

“Yes I do,” Scott laughs, “I fall all the time. It just happens when you’re skating around on ice. It doesn’t mean you aren’t good at it.”

“But I don’t want to fall. I want to skate like Kaetlyn.”

Tessa shares a knowing smile with Scott. They’d taken the kids to Stars on Ice in the spring and Alisa had latched onto two-time World Champion Kaetlyn Osmond and idolized her ever since. Posters on the wall, dresses that looked like her skating costumes, and renaming her favorite doll after her. 

“That takes _practice_ , Lis,” Tessa explains gently, “Lots and lots and lots of practice. And I promise she fell down more than once. The important thing is that she got back up again.”

“So… I have to go?” Her head pops out from under the blanket and she looks first at Tessa, then at Scott – her hazel eyes going big and round in a way that she has quickly learned usually gets her way with her father – but Scott seems resolute.

“Yes, you have to go. You have to try again. If you don’t like it anymore, that’s fine, but you can’t quit after one fall.”

Alisa looks at him for a long moment, her eyes serious as she works through it silently in her mind, before she finally nods, “Okay.”

“Let’s go clean this up and get dressed while Mommy takes a shower and then we’ll head to the rink. Nana is coming with us and she’ll be here soon.”

The kids cheer and climb back out of the bed while Scott grabs the tray and kisses her again, “See you downstairs.”

“I’ll be quick,” She promises, watching them go with a heart so full she feels like it might burst.

She rubs at her lower back again as she makes her way into the master bathroom, heading for the toilet to relieve herself before taking a shower. It almost feels like she’s start to get cramps in her abdomen, too, but she banishes the thought away as quickly as it came. 

Because that would mean…

A sense of foreboding settles over her as she closes the door and unties the drawstring of her silk pajama pants. She has a feeling she knows what she’s going to find once they’re discarded, dread settling low in her stomach as she pushes her pants down her legs.

A bright splash of red.

_Blood._

Not a lot, but enough. To anyone else, the start of a heavy period, to her – three weeks late and a wastebasket with two positive tests inside – she knows it’s more than that.

Anguish washes over her as she doubles over – burying her face in her hands and pressing the heels hard against her eyes. There’s a shrill ringing in her ears and a burning behind her eyelids, yet the tears don’t come.

Eventually a numbness settles over her as she waits and waits, rocking back and forth and cradling her now empty womb. She can hear the front door open and close downstairs – a sign that Alma has arrived – and knows that she has to move. Has to shower and get dressed and put on a smile, but her limbs feel like dead weight.

 _Three_. That’s three miscarriages in the last year. Three failed pregnancies, despite Dr. Lovett’s continuous reassurances that nothing has changed regarding her APS or general health.

Her body is just… failing.

Again.

 _This must be my fault_ , she thinks – the color red burning itself across the back of her eyelids, _I’ve been so busy. Traveling so much. I’ve been careless._

She knows Scott, and her doctor, and her old therapist, would all berate her for those thoughts, but she can’t help them from coming all the same.

The first miscarriage had been sad, but they’d regrouped and resolved to try again. The second had been a little harder, but Tessa had let Dr. Lovett convince her that it was just nature and nothing could have been done.

But three times? Three times means there must be something wrong, and clearly the common denominator in all three cases has been _her_. Her and her traitorous body.

“Tess!” Scott calls through the door, “Where’s Lissa’s coat?”

“It’s in the closet downstairs!” She croaks out, somehow managing to make her voice loud enough to be heard, and it’s almost as if she can sense him hesitating outside the door.

“...Is everything okay in there?”

“Yeah.”

 _No_.

She has to tell him, and she will, but she needs to process this first. To come to terms with the fact that their dream has slipped through their fingers again.

Slowly, she methodically starts to clean up. Digging a pad out from underneath the sink next to the tampons that she’d hoped she’d put away for good for the next nine months. It almost feels like routine now. A horrifying, nightmarish routine. 

Tessa turns the faucet on to wash her hands, and then turns on the shower – stepping in underneath the hot spray and closing her eyes as it soaks her body. It’s too hot, scalding, really, but she doesn’t change it. Let’s the fire burn some feeling back into her arms and legs. Let’s the rushing water become a background noise to the voices in her head.

She’s not good enough, her _body_ isn’t good enough, and there will be no more children.

Now she just has to find a way to tell Scott.

Scott, whose eyes light up so bright every time she tells him her period is late. Who whips out his well-worn paper list of baby names and starts updating it with new ideas and crossing out a few of the old ones. Whose eyes grow a little dimmer each time she has to tell him her body rejected the pregnancy.

Her body aches as she washes her hair, scrubbing shampoo into her scalp with a vigor that any stylist would be horrified by.

_Maybe if I take some Tylenol I can keep it a secret until tonight._

Scott is so excited to go skating with all of their friends, it’s all he’s talked about for the past week, and to get Toph out on the ice for the first time. She doesn’t want to ruin this for him. He deserves to have a good day today.

Eventually she shuts off the water and steps out of the shower - tying her hair back in a braid, the water leaking from her hair forming a wet spot on her robe while she digs around her closet for jeans and a sweater.

 _I’ll tell him I’m not feeling well, that’s all_.

She descends the staircase slowly, taking deep fortifying breaths with each step and working on reattaching the smile that she’d had on only minutes ago.

“The other day she made a pun and then _explained_ to me why it was funny,” Alma tells Scott, her voice carrying from the entryway, and Tessa hears him laugh in return.

“That’s my girl,” Scott replies proudly, and Tessa can’t help the tiny twitch of her mouth in response. She loves how much he loves their children.

She just wishes she could give him one more.  

She comes around the corner, finding the kids snacking on a bag of goldfish that Alma undoubtedly brought them, while her mother-in-law attempts to push Scott’s hair back from his forehead.

“You really should cut it. It’s getting so long.”

“Tess likes it like this,” Scott says fondly, swatting her hand away, and Tessa feels her stomach roll.

She can’t. She can’t keep it from him. They promised no secrets, no lies, and he deserves to know just as much as she does. Right now. If he finds out she knew and didn’t tell him, he’ll be even more devastated.

Her decision to be honest doesn’t matter much anyway, because the instant his eyes find her face his smile droops and she knows he can tell that something’s wrong.        

_Curse him and his ability to read me like an open book._

“Tess?” His brow furrows in concern and she jerks her head to gesture towards the other room.

"Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure, T. Of course,” He follows her as she leads them back towards the family room, away from where his mother or the kids can hear them, “What’s up?”

“I have to tell you something,” She swallows thickly and forces herself to look him in the eyes, certain that the sorrow in hers must be obvious, and Scott scans her face for a moment – sadness settling over his features - before quietly asking her the question he already seems to know the answer to.

“Again?”

She nods wordlessly, burrowing her face into his chest as his arms circle around her and hold her close.

Scott stays quiet, pulling her in tight and swaying slightly while he processes the information. She knows he’s fighting back tears - can hear his throat working as he swallows around the lump that's formed there - trying to stay strong for her, but it hurts. It hurts knowing she can’t give him this.

“I’m so sorry,” She finally manages to say, barely holding onto the tears that are threatening to fall. Apparently all it took was Scott’s presence for the dam to break, and she can feel the sobs forming inside her chest – threatening to burst free any second.

“Hey, hey now,” Scott shushes her, rubbing his hands up and down her back in long, soothing motions, “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It’s not your fault, Tess.”

“I know, but –“

“No, Tessa,” Scott says firmly, leaning backwards and forcing her to look at him, “No. It’s not your fault and I want to hear you say it.”

“Scott, I-“

She can’t. She can’t say it when she knows it’s not true.

“Tess,” He says her name again with force, his eyes blazing, and she swallows thickly before giving him the response he demands.  

“It’s not my fault,” She murmurs weakly and Scott nods.

“Say it again.”

“It’s not my fault,” Her voice comes out a little firmer, and Scott’s hands grip her a little tighter as he maintains his earnest gaze on her eyes.

“That’s right. You know as well as I do that Dr. Lovett said this might happen. It sucks, it really sucks, and I won’t pretend that I’m not disappointed, but it isn’t your fault. It’s just… nature. Maybe we’re only going to have two children.”

“But we wanted so badly for there to be three. That’s all we’ve ever talked about.”

“I know we hoped for three, but I love our life how it is now, Tess. If Alisa and Toph are our only kids, then that’s really okay with me. Are _you_ okay?”

His face is so open, his voice so steady, that Tessa can already start to feel part of herself believe him.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” She replies, presses her nose into his chest again and getting some of the fluff from his sweater in her mouth, but refusing to let go of their embrace just yet, even to brush it away.

“Are you really, though? Be honest with me,” Scott squeezes her a little tighter, burying his nose in her hair, and Tessa sighs and relaxes against him.

“I will be, eventually. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” He echoes her words, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Do you still want to take the kids skating or would you rather stay home? Either one is fine with me. Whatever you need.”

“I don’t really feel up to skating, but you should go. Toph is so excited and Alisa needs to get back on the ice sooner rather than later. And we promised Kaitlyn that we'd be there, we can’t cancel at the last minute. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

“Tess,” Scott chastises quietly, “I don’t want to leave you alone when I know you’re feeling like this.”

“I’ll be okay, really,” She insists, stepping out of his arms and wiping the tears off her cheeks, “I promise I’m not spiraling. My back just hurts and I’m cramping a little. I’ll warm up a heating pad and cuddle up on the couch with Babcock and watch a rom-com. I promise I’ll be alright.”

“I’m worried about you,” He brushes an errant tear away from the corner of her eye, and Tessa leans into his touch – drawing warmth and strength from him.

“I love our life how it is now, too. I really will be fine here. Take the kids and have fun.”

“Only if you’re absolutely sure. I don’t mind staying here at all if that’s what you need. Just say the word.”

“Go. I’ll see you when you get home.”

Scott kisses her, soft and gentle and oh so sweet, before pressing another kiss to her forehead and heading out the door with his mom and the kids – yelling out a promise over his shoulder to be home early – and then she’s alone. Nothing but the quiet crackle of the fire and Babcock’s lazy yawns to interrupt the silence.

Desperate for noise, Tessa turns on the first movie she can find on TV. An old rerun of _The Man Who Knew Too Much_. It’s a classic, James Stewart and Doris Day, and Tessa makes herself a big bowl of popcorn and a large mug of hot chocolate and settles in, trying to let herself be distracted by murder and abductions in the 1950s.   

Scott’s right. This life. Their family. It is enough, and she _does_ love everything exactly how it is right now. But she just can’t shake the feeling that something – some _one –_ is missing.

 

\-------

 

Thirty minutes later a knock on the door rouses her from the nap she'd been slipping into, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock, and Tessa shoots up straight at the unexpected intruder.

 _They have a key, so it’s probably not a burglar_ , she tries to think rationally, setting the popcorn aside and standing up slowly. She picks up the TV remote to use as a weapon, just in case, and raises it above her head as footsteps get closer.

“Tessa!”

“Jesus, Mom!” The remote clatters to the floor as Tessa presses her hand over her chest, trying to calm her racing heart, “What are you doing here?”

“Scott called,” Kate replies, a critical eyebrow arched high as she takes in the sight before her, “I thought you might be upstairs resting so I let myself in. Were you going to fight me off with a _remote_? Honestly, honey, the popcorn bowl would do more damage than that.”

“You surprised me,” Tessa pulls the blanket over her shoulders more securely and follows her mom as she heads into the kitchen, only just noticing the bags in her arms. “Why are you here?” She tries again.

“He told me what happened and said he didn’t think you ought to be alone, so I’ve brought some groceries. I’m going to make your favorite crock-pot roast beef and potatoes – with enough to have leftovers tomorrow. I know that the last thing you probably want to do today is cook.”

“That’s… really sweet of you. Thank you.”

Tessa slides onto one of the barstools and watches while her mother moves around the kitchen like she owns the place, pulling out utensils and knives and a cutting board and plugging in the crock-pot.

Eyeing the grocery bags, Tessa perks up at some of the ingredients she can see, “Are you making-“

“Your favorite double chocolate chip cookies? Yes, I am,” Kate winks at her with a knowing smile, and Tessa grins – feeling like a little kid again sitting in her mother’s kitchen while she whips up baked goods worthy of any fancy patisserie in Europe.

“Thank you, Mom, really. Scott was right – it’s nice to have you here.”

“Nobody should be alone after something like this,” Kate replies softly, takings Tessa’s hand in hers and squeezing, “Even someone as strong as you.”

Blinking back a fresh wave of tears, Tessa sits up a little straighter and forces herself to think only happy thoughts about cookies and how grateful she is that her relationship with her mother has come as far as it has in the last few years.

They’d been already slowly repairing things by the time she’d returned to Ilderton, but things really took a turn when Alisa was born. It was as if Kate finally let go of any resentments over the past, and any fear that Tessa might leave again, and finally full accepted Scott into the family.

“What can I do to help?”

“Start cutting up the potatoes,” Kate suggests and Tessa tosses the blanket aside and joins her mother at the counter, slicing them up with as much enthusiasm as she can manage - hyper-aware of where her fingers are in relation to the sharp blade.

Cooking takes focus, and that’s exactly what she needs right now, and if Kate’s quiet smile is anything to go by – she’d known it.

A ping alerts Tessa to a new text and she sets down the knife to pull open the video Scott had sent her.

“Hey, T, check this out,” Scott’s excited face grins at her before he presses the button to flip the camera around to show Toph at his side – barely hanging on to Scott’s hand as he moves his little legs faster than his dad probably feels comfortable going on their first time around the rink. There’s pure freedom in her son’s expression  - like a bird discovering flight for the first time – and for some reason Tessa can feel herself tearing up again.

“He’s a goddamn natural, Tess!” Scott practically shouts, and both Tessa and Kate laugh out loud.

“Like his father, that one,” Kate agrees, and Tessa smiles.

Toph might be a bit of a mama’s boy sometimes (which she not-so-secretly loves), but apparently he’s all Scott when it comes to the ice.

“He’s already better than me and this is his first time,” Alisa’s glum voice says quietly, and Scott pans the camera over to where she’s clinging to the boards with both hands. Her feet wobbling as she tries to shuffle along the ice.

“That’s because he hasn’t fallen down yet,” Scott tells her softly, the camera going crazy for a second as he tries to keep a hold on Toph, “ _You_ know that it can hurt, so you’re more cautious. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Alisa makes a low grumbling noise in the back of her throat and attempts to kick off harder, but she stumbles and it takes all the effort she can manage to set herself right again.

“I hate this. It’s not fun.”

“Lis-“

“What’s this? Not _fun_?” Eric skates up to them, clearly having overheard part of their conversation, “That just won’t do.”

Tessa watches the screen with a growing smile as Eric grabs both of Alisa’s hands and starts skating backwards, dragging her along with him, and Alisa shrieks and tries to stop him. Scott follows them with the camera, and if Tessa had to bet, she’d say he was grinning too.

“Uncle Eric, no! Too fast!”

“Lis,” He stops for a second, squatting down so that he can look her in the face, “Do you think I’d let you fall?”

“No,” She shakes her head, pigtails flopping back and forth, and Eric smiles softly.

“No, I won’t. Skating _is_ fun, and I’m going to prove it to you. Do you trust me?”

Alisa nods solemnly and Eric smiles even wider, “Good. Now let’s go.”

He starts skating backwards again, pulling her along even faster, and this time when Alisa shrieks it’s out of laughter, not fear.

Scott laughs too as the video ends and Tessa sighs – finally feeling almost as content as she had that morning.

“It’s a good life, Tessa,” Kate whispers, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, “With a great husband and great kids. Try to focus on that.”

“I know, Mom,” Tessa replies, letting herself be pulled into a warm hug, “It _is_ a good life.”

Not only good, it’s the _best_ , even if it’s not perfect.

The soft, dulcet tones of Doris Day float in through the entryway of the kitchen from the living room, and Tessa lets the message of the simple lyrics wash over her.  

 

_Que sera, sera_

_What will be, will be._

 


	12. May, July, October 2025

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third time isn't so easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Talk of pregnancy/complications/c-section

** one day maybe you will find the baby makes three **

****

**_May 4, 2025_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

**_11 Weeks_ **

****

They aren’t talking about it.

Scott knows they _should_ be talking about it. It’s _important_ and a big deal and potentially – no, definitely - life changing. The kind of thing most couples discuss ad nauseam, sharing every thought, worry, and decision with each other. But instead they are just.not.talking about it. 

They didn’t talk about it when he found the positive tests in the wastebasket while cleaning the bathroom (ten of them, poorly hidden under a bunch of tissues).

They didn’t talk about it when Dr. Lovett left him a voicemail confirming Tessa’s eight-week appointment when she couldn’t reach his wife on the phone (he knows she cancelled it, but they didn’t talk about that either).

And they aren’t talking about it now while Tessa massages his aching shoulders – sore from helping Chiddy move into his new house in London all weekend.

Instead their eyes are trained on the TV watching the most recent _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movie with the sound turned down low so that it doesn’t wake up the kids upstairs. The protagonist is a sassy ginger that he knows Tessa feels drawn to, proving that even though it’s been twenty years, her red head phase never completely left her, and the plot is entertaining enough to keep him distracted. It could _almost_ rival the first movie in terms of quality.

(He’d seen that with Tessa, too, in the theatres when it was released, and it had led to the one and only time he’d tried to grow any facial hair – jealous of her crush on Will Turner - without any success.)

"I think I might have to be her for Halloween,” Tessa muses, her thumb finding a particularly deep knot next to his shoulder blade and digging in, forcing a low groan from somewhere deep in his body and making him lean further into her touch. He’s sitting on the floor between her legs, but as far as he’s concerned he might as well be in heaven. Well, that is if heaven were a place where he had to work up the courage to confront his wife.   

He nearly quips that she won’t fit into a red corset anymore by the end of October, or be able to dye her hair – the joke half-formed against his lips – but he bites his tongue at the last second.

Because they aren’t talking about it, and it’s killing him.

She’s somewhere around eleven weeks along, if his math is right (and it usually is) – longer than the previous three pregnancies managed to last – yet she isn’t saying _anything_. And what’s almost more astounding, she hasn’t caught on that he suspects her yet.

No, somehow she’s gone on living her life like everything’s hunky-dory, and the act is almost convincing enough that Scott’s had to pause multiple times and question whether or not she actually _is_ pregnant and he hasn’t just imagined the whole thing.

The thing is, he knows – because she’s Tessa and he’s known her for three decades and her behavior doesn’t exactly surprise him anymore – that it’s self-preservation more than anything else that’s driving her to secrecy. If she ignores it, pretends it isn’t happening, then it won’t be so devastating if she miscarries again, but he… he just doesn’t feel the same way.

No, Scott, god help him, is _excited_.

He’d promised her a few months ago when she’d asked that he was happy. That their lives aren’t lacking in any way just because they haven’t had as many kids as they’d anticipated. And it was the truth. It _still is_ the truth. But, well, it’s _Tessa_ and a new baby and a chance to finally have a child that inherits her gorgeous green eyes (third time’s a charm, he just knows it) – and he wants it. Wants it so badly he’d caught himself staring at the baby clothing section in the mall two weeks ago, his hands lingering on a silky pink dress with wildflowers on the hem. _Accidentally_ wandered onto a mommy blog about the latest formula brands. Pulled Alisa’s baby blanket out of her closet and put it to his nose with closed eyes (because she’s five now and so far from being a baby it hurts).

It turns out he’s not as ready to say goodbye to that part of his life as he’d thought.

He’s ready to do it all again. The late nights, the midnight feedings, the crying, and the diapers, and all the firsts. First smile, first laugh, first cuddle, first steps. He wants it so much he can hardly breathe.

They can’t keep ignoring it. _He_ can’t. With every week that passes, the fetus grows – which Scott is hyper aware of thanks to the app he’d downloaded two days after finding the positive tests. It’s about the size of a lime now, about 1.6 inches long and weighs in at about .25 ounces, and he’s mentally started referring to it as a _baby_ , instead of the clinical, detached-sounding term  _fetus_.

No, they have to talk about it, and soon. Preferably _before_ Scott loses his fucking mind.

Making a decision, he grabs Tessa’s feet and pulls them into his lap, softly kneading the arches while an intricate swordfight continues on screen, and she lets out a little sigh behind him and drops a kiss to the top of his head.

“Your feet look a little swollen tonight, T,” He says tentatively, his voice barely more than a whisper, and then bites his tongue. It’s not a _lie_ per se – they do look slightly bigger – but he’s hoping she’ll see through him and take the hint.

_Is she picking up what I’m putting down?_ His ridiculous brain asks itself, and Scott barely holds in his snort.  

The muscles in her legs go tense, her hands going still where they are on his back, and the secondhand on the clock in the kitchen ticks so loudly Scott swears Toph is going to hear it and wake up any second.

Finally she speaks with an obviously forced air of brevity, “Are they? Must be from carrying all those boxes _and_ helping Liz keep an eye on Ian and Maggie while you and Chiddy ate pizza and mounted the flat screen.”

Scott slumps, the bitter taste of disappointment flooding his mouth. He’d thought for just a moment that she was finally going to come clean and just admit what he already knows to be true, but apparently it’s going to take a more direct approach.

He just can’t wait anymore. They’re going to talk about this. Tonight.

“That’s one option,” He grumbles, his voice coming out gruff and annoyed rather than light and gently prodding as he’d intended, and he winces when Tessa tenses up again – moving her feet away from his hands and back down to the floor.

_She’s removing physical contact. Uh oh. Tread carefully, Moir._

“You know.” Her voice is flat as she scoots away from him on the couch, folding her legs underneath herself and pausing the movie while she warily watches him climb up from the floor and take a seat beside her.

"I know,” He nods solemnly, keeping his eyes trained on her face to catch any emotion she displays. _No temper_ , he reminds himself, even though part of him wants to yell, “Of course I know! I’m not a goddamn idiot! And you are the worst hider of pregnancy tests in the world!”

“How long?” Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, chewing it until Scott knows it’s going to be raw and chapped in the morning, and he resists the urge to tug it free.

He could lie. Make her feel better and pretend he’s only just realized. But he doesn’t. He’s not completely oblivious, even if he hadn’t noticed her haircut last week (she’d only trimmed the tiniest amount!), and apparently she needs to be reminded of that.

"Almost a month.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tessa accuses, her cheeks turning pink and her eyes blazing, and Scott _laughs_.

“Why didn’t YOU?” There’s no real anger in his voice at the accusation, a feat he’s quite proud of, but he can’t keep the scoff completely smothered at the end. “You’re the one who knew for sure!” He holds up his fingers and starts ticking off examples, “You took the tests, spoke to the doctor, swapped out your coffee for decaf, stopped drinking wine on Friday nights, restocked your pre-natal vitamins, started carrying around extra gum in case you get sick, started gagging at the smell of olives again, and don’t think I didn’t see you lingering on those tiny ballet shoes last week when we were at White Oak buying new sneakers for Toph.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“ _Tess_ ,” He sighs in exasperation, rolling his eyes so hard it hurts, “Seriously?”  

He can guess what she’s going to say next, he just needs her to get it over with. Once it’s spoken they can deal with it head on, instead of letting it become a Thing with a capital T inside her head like she has a tendency to do.

(He’d forgiven her for their history a long time ago, but he won’t deny that it still irks him sometimes on the rare occasion when she bottles her feelings up instead of talking to him about them.)

“I’m afraid, Scott,” Tessa admits quietly, fiddling with the loose strings on the closest throw pillow and refusing to look at him. It surprises him a little to hear her state it so blatantly. He hadn’t quite expected her to say it so soon. Had been gearing up for a bit more of a fight first.

Her fingers clench and unclench around the fabric and Scott relaxes and reaches out to tug her into his arms without a second thought – smiling softly when she comes without hesitation.

“I know, T,” He murmurs into her hair, repositioning them so that they’re lying down with Tessa using most of his body as a pillow, “I know you are. It’s okay to be scared.”

“It just doesn’t feel real, you know?” She tilts her head so that she can look up at him, and Scott holds her gaze despite the awkward angle, gently caressing her cheek while she talks, “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. To wake up and find…to not be… I guess, I figured if I ignored it, it wouldn’t hurt so bad when –“

“ _If,_ ” Scott gently corrects her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “You don’t know it’ll happen again.”

“Our odds aren’t exactly that great,” Tessa snaps, but her tone lacks any real bite and Scott lets it go, opting to reply with a joke instead as he soothes her tight muscles by running his hand up and down her spine. Trying to rub away her fears and make room for a little hope in the process.

“Never tell me the odds,” He shoots back, doing a poor imitation of Han Solo, and Tessa reluctantly giggles.

“Scruffy looking nerfherder,” She mumbles into his chest, scratching her nails against his jaw where he’d been lax in shaving the past week (not that he has much to show for it, sadly).

“It’s okay to be apprehensive, Tess, I know it’s kind of terrifying,” He starts, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “But it’s okay to be _hopeful_ , too.”

“...I’ll try.”

Scott hums and presses play again on the remote, wrapping his arms tight around her while the pirates pillage and plunder. He won’t press the issue anymore tonight – they’ve talked about it, and that’s all he needs for now – but as he holds her close in his embrace, their heartbeats seemingly syncing up of their own accord as they press together, a feeling of peace washes over him.

It’s going to work out this time. He just knows it.   

 

* * *

 

**_July 21, 2025_ **

**_Ilderton, Ontario_ **

**_22 Weeks_ **

****

“Bed rest!?” Tessa practically stomps into the house in front of him, doing the complete opposite of what Dr. Lovett had recommended. Defying orders to try and be slow and careful and calm at all times, “I can’t be on best rest! I’m barely halfway through this pregnancy. I have children. Work! A career! A life! I can’t just hang around in bed until _November!_ I’ll go crazy with boredom!”

“She didn’t say it had to be bed twenty-four/seven,” Scott points out, following her into the house and back towards the kitchen, two bags of take-out in his hands, and Tessa throws a look at him over her shoulder that would make the bravest lions run and hide.

(He's been watching a lot of  _Lion King_ with Alisa lately - the movie's on his brain). 

Scott swallows and continues following her anyway, secretly plotting how to convince her to listen to Dr. Lovett. She’s showing symptoms of pre-eclampsia – elevated blood pressure, protein in her urine, edema – a condition that affects one in three women with APS, according to the doctor, and they’d been told the safest option for a healthy pregnancy was to limit anything that might be making her overly stressed and resting as much as possible.

Clearly, judging by the slamming cupboards and the metaphorical steam coming out of her ears, Tessa isn’t taking too well to the idea. But even though she might balk at the idea of forced rest and relaxation for the next eighteen weeks, Scott still has words like _seizures, heart failure_ , and _stillbirth_ floating around in his head and that’s enough to convince him it’s one-hundred percent necessary – no matter how many scary faces Tessa throws his way.   

 

***

 

Which is why he’s not exactly thrilled when he comes home from work a few days later after picking Alisa up from school and finds her car gone, the lights in the house all off, and silence from their bedroom.

As the minutes go by, turning into nearly an hour, _not exactly thrilled_ , starts running more into the _really fucking angry_ territory.

She gets home twenty minutes into his dinner preparations, Toph and a load of books in tow, and Scott watches her walk into the kitchen with a look on his face that can probably be described as _“If I didn’t love you so much I could probably throttle you right now.”_

“Oh!” She squeaks the moment she sees him, her mouth forming a little O shape that he’d normally find adorable, “Hi.” She blinks owlishly at him when he doesn’t respond, cheeks turning red at having been caught, “I thought you were going over to Danny’s after work.”

“He got called in and had to reschedule,” Scott explains tersely, his eyes not leaving her as she moves around the room, his dinner preparations abandoned. It’s probably better that he doesn’t try to chop tomatoes right now, unless he wants to lose a finger. Especially since her body language is fluctuating between chagrin and defiance, which sets his teeth on edge. The way he sees it, she has absolutely no reason to be angry with him right now. She should be apologizing for disobeying orders.   

“Oh.”

Scott waits expectantly while Tessa puts down the books and hangs up her keys and hands Toph a banana before sending him into the other room to watch whatever’s currently playing on CBC Kids with his sister.  

“Are you mad?” She finally asks as soon as they’re alone, sounding (but not quite looking) contrite, “You seem mad.”

Scott breathes out through his nose and speaks through gritted teeth, “Why would I be mad?”

“Because-“

She tries to start talking and he knows there are a million and one excuses inside her head already scripted, rehearsed, and waiting to be performed, but Scott has no patience for them right now and plows on ahead without waiting for her to speak.

“Maybe because you were told only _four_ days ago that you need to keep your blood pressure down if you want to carry to term. Or because your ankles and feet are swelling a lot more than they should be. Because you’ve still got nausea even though we’re way past the first trimester. Because you got dizzy this morning and had to sit down for ten minutes before you recovered. Because you were told by a licensed professional that bed rest is ESSENTIAL. Because you just came home from an obvious outing-“

“I get it!” Tessa shouts, cutting him off, “I know I’m not supposed to be on my feet a lot. But you can’t expect me to adjust in one week! It takes time, Scott. Dr. Lovett wants me to give up my whole life when I feel FINE. It’s so frustrating!”

“But you _don’t_ feel fine, Tess! And you and I both know that’s because you _aren’t!”_

“Nobody who’s pregnant ever feels fine!”

“This isn’t a normal pregnancy! You’re high-risk, which means extra precautions!”

“I did!” She crosses her arms over her heaving chest, her cheeks flushed from arguing, and Scott can tell she’s digging her heels in now, “I sat down while we were there and let Toph do most of the looking and picking out books. We went to the library _down the street_ , it was hardly a pilgrimage to Mecca.”

“Don’t make light of this. What if something happened?”

"I’m not going to keel over dead from some puffy feet, although I’m _sorry_ if they make me less attractive or something.”

“Tess,” Scott blanches, suddenly gripping the counter for support, his knuckles turning white, “Don’t joke about that.”

She has the decency to look remorseful for that last crack, and the fire in her eyes diminishes as her arms drop back to her sides, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But I really did feel fine today. We had fun.”

“I know,” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to get his emotions back in check. He didn’t mean to fight with her, not really, but he’s scared to death of having another late-term miscarriage, or worse, losing _her_. “I know. I get that it’s a huge adjustment and it’s really hard for you, but Tess, have you Googled pre-eclampsia at all?”

“Dr. Lovett told me not to, remember?” Tessa shrugs, grabbing a banana for herself – probably more so that she’ll have something distracting to do with her hands, than any real desire to eat it, “She said it would only freak me out.”

“And you listened?” Scott chuckles dryly and Tessa’s mouth twitches.

“This time.”

“Well, I did look it up, and it’s not a joke, okay? This is serious.”

Tessa puts the peeled banana down, leaving it to brown (he’ll have to find a way to incorporate it into dinner now so that it’s not wasted), and comes around to his side of the island so that she can loop her arms around his torso, forcing him into a tight embrace that he only half-heartedly pretends to resist before melting into her. The smell of her strawberry hair and vanilla lotion doing wonders for his anxiety.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I didn’t mean to worry you or fight with you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have freaked out, I just,” Scott groans, pushing her backwards by the shoulders so that he can look her in the face, “I need you to be okay, even if I have to handcuff you to the bed myself. And _not_ in the fun way,” He adds when she smirks, preempting the joke he knows she was about to make, “I can’t risk something happening to you. That’s pretty much my worst nightmare.”

Her face softens as she takes in the tone of his voice, the way his face has gone tense, the grip of his hands on her body, and Tessa reaches up to brush an invisible strand of hair away from his forehead – pressing down on the wrinkles that had formed there and smoothing away his worries, “It’s that serious?”

“It can be, if we’re not careful,” Scott tells her honestly, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his mouth so that he can gently kiss the inside of her wrist, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’ll be better. You can start carrying me from room to room, if that makes you happy.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite that drastic,” He smirks, scooping her up in his arms and grinning when she laughs, “But I’m happy to do it anyway.”

“Careful,” Tessa warns as he starts heading towards the family room, “I might demand to be taken everywhere on a palanquin like an ancient queen, even after the baby is born.”

“With me, Eric, and Chiddy as the bearers?”

“Well I’m _bearing_ your child, so it’s only fair,” Tessa grins and Scott groans overdramatically, rolling his eyes for added effect.

“So cheesy.”

“Cheese?” Toph perks up, turning away from the TV to look at them with wide, hopeful eyes. He’s become obsessed with mac and cheese lately to the point where even words that sound similar to that particular dish lead to an endless tirade of demands to be fed – no matter what time of day it is.

“Not tonight, buddy,” Scott replies, sharing a grimace with Tessa as he sets her down on the couch between their children. They both know what’s coming next.

Sure enough, Toph’s face falls right on cue, “But I want some.”

“We had that last night,” Scott explains, muttering _and the night before that, and the night before that_ , under his breath, “Tonight Daddy’s making tacos!”

“Doesn’t that sound yummy, honey?” Tessa adds, tickling Toph’s sides and distracting him momentarily from his goal.

“Hard shell or soft shell?” Alisa chimes in, and Scott smiles knowing she’ll be pleased with his answer.

“Hard shell. Do you want to help me?”

A wide smile breaks out on her face (she _loves_ Mexican food), scrunching up her freckled cheeks, and she hops off the couch and takes his hand, “Yes, please!”

“But what about cheese?” Toph pouts, sinking into the couch cushions and further into Tessa’s side, and she throws her arm around him so that he’s tucked in more comfortably.

“The tacos will be yummy, Toph, and then after dinner we’ll read one of the new books we got at the library. Remember the special one? I think Daddy will be really excited.”

Toph’s eyes light up and he breaks free of Tessa’s arms, smiling up at Scott, “Oh yeah!”

“What’s this? You got a special book for me?” Scott asks, playing along. He won’t deny that he’s genuinely curious what kind of book his three-and-a-half year old son might have picked out for him.

"It’s a hockey book, Dad!” Toph shouts, jumping all the way off the couch and leading the way back into the kitchen, hardly stopping to make sure his family is following him, “It’s blue and has leafs!”

“He means the Maple Leafs,” Tessa clarifies, rushing over to the table to pull the book out before Toph accidentally tugs the whole bag down on top of himself and handing it to him so that he can show Scott.

“You got me a hockey book?” Scott asks, crouching down to get a better look and feeling genuinely excited, despite the rudimentary drawings that show it’s clearly a picture book meant for kids.

“Yep! Will you read it to me?”

“Of course, buddy,” Scott grins, ruffling his curly hair, “As many times as you want.”

“Maybe the trip to the library wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” Tessa suggests with a teasing lilt in her voice, and Scott shakes his head at her while trying not to smile.

“Don’t think I approve,” He warns, but then the smile breaks free and he can’t help but chuckle, “But yeah, I guess maybe it wasn’t all bad.”

 

* * *

 

**_October 3, 2025_ **

**_London Health Sciences Centre, Ontario_ **

**_33 Weeks_ **

****

Scott doesn’t really care for hospitals. They’re big and impersonal and smell funny, and right now overcrowded with parents bringing their children in for immunizations at the start of the school year and posters everywhere warning about the seasonal flu now that it’s autumn and the weather is turning colder, reminding him that Alisa could bring home germs any day from some kids in her class and infect the whole family. Toph had caught a bad case of it the previous year, and he’d rather not have to live through the stress and worry of that again. 

With that thought, he reaches for the bottle of hand sanitizer again and squirts some into his palms, rubbing vigorously down to his wrists. It’s something to do – something to _worry_ about – rather than obsessing over the very real concern sitting next to him.

"Ow,” Tessa murmurs quietly, rubbing her temples and scrunching her eyes closed to keep out the bright lights of the waiting room.

“Headache?” He asks softly, keeping his voice as low as possible so that he doesn’t make it worse, and Tessa just presses her lips together and nods. A sure sign that it’s a bad one. “They’re getting worse, T. I’m worried about how often you’re having them.”

“It’s really more like one long headache,” She jokes mirthlessly, and Scott swallows loudly before replying, the mental list of bad symptoms he’d memorized weeks ago flashing through his mind.

“That just proves my point.”

“Mrs. Moir? We’re ready for you,” A nurse calls out, her voice shrill and loud, and Tessa whimpers before steeling herself and standing up.

They’re walking into the doctor’s office, something they’ve done practically hundreds of times, and yet for some reason to his over-dramatic brain it feels more like they’re walking to their doom.

 

“Tessa, your blood pressure has gone up again. It’s 155 over 112 now.” Dr. Lovett sits across from them, the creases in her forehead prominent as she pours over Tessa’s lab work, her frown slowly deepening and taking Scott’s hopes with it. “There’s more protein in your urine, and your swelling has increased significantly, not to mention you said you’d been experiencing some abdominal pain. I’m worried if this continues it will lead to more serious complications.”

“More serious?” Scott asks, rubbing between Tessa’s shoulders when she hunches over to deal with another bout of nausea. They come in rolling waves for her, and he knows she’s trying to breathe through it.

“Placental abruption, seizures, stroke, kidney failure, rupture of the liver, even death,” Dr. Lovett replies solemnly, and Tessa sucks in a deep breath, one that Scott mirrors as he tries not to panic.

He’d known about those already, of course, but knowing in the abstract _this might happen but probably won’t_ kind of way and being faced with it head-on are two very different things.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Dr. Lovett continues sympathetically, reaching out to pat Tessa’s knee before wheeling her stool over to the wall and turning off the lights – providing a modicum of relief for Tessa that both she and Scott appreciate. “I’m just being straightforward about the facts.” 

There’s just enough sunlight breaking through the clouds outside to keep the room lit enough to see and talk, and Scott glumly thinks that it’s fitting. The room should be grim and grey for this conversation. 

“So what do we do?” Scott asks, shifting into problem-solving mode before he can fall into despair, “Permanent bed rest? Are there more medications she should be taking?”

“We could wait, but,” Dr. Lovett hesitates, looking long and hard at Tessa and then at her chart again before continuing, “I think we need to seriously consider cesarean.”

“What?!” Tessa’s head shoots up, headache apparently forgotten at Dr. Lovett’s words, “When? Why? I delivered Alisa and Toph naturally just fine, I can do that with this baby too.” 

“Yes, but you didn’t have pre-eclampsia those other times,” Dr. Lovett explains patiently, “And your pre-eclampsia is getting worse. I’d advise not waiting.”

“When you say not waiting you mean –“ Scott asks slowly, his hand returning to Tessa’s back. Although this time it’s more for mutual emotional support than to soothe any physical pain.

"I mean Sunday. I’d give you steroids today, forty-eight hours before surgery, to help the baby’s lungs develop a bit more before the birth, and perform the operation Sunday morning.”

“No! That’s way too soon. I’m not anywhere near full-term yet!” Tessa protests, her eyes wide and pleading and her hands resting palms up on her knees in clear supplication, “Isn’t there anything else that can be done?”

“I hate to be blunt, Tessa, but if we don’t deliver this baby now the odds aren’t good for either of you.”

“So I don’t really have a choice?”

“Of course you do, you’re the parents and I can’t force you into a decision one way or the other, but that’s my recommendation for the best outcome.”

“What are the risks for after the birth?” Scott cuts in, his brain suddenly foggy and his thoughts disjointed. He can barely string enough words together to clarify, “To the baby, I mean. Will she be okay?”

Dr. Lovett turns to him and nods, “The baby will be moderately pre-term. She’s measuring about four-and-a-half pounds and nineteen inches long right now, so she’s right on track as far as her growth goes. She’ll need to stay in the NICU while her respiratory system finishes developing and because her immunity will be a bit compromised, but the stay should be fairly short if everything goes well and assuming she’s healthy in every other aspect.”

“So she’ll live? If we do the C-section, they’ll both be alright?”

_Of course they will_ , Scott mentally tacks on to his question, _there isn’t any other option._

“Of course I can’t guarantee that, but there’s no reason I can think of why they shouldn’t be, assuming there are no complications. We could wait and try to make it another week or two, but honestly I worry more about the baby in that instance. There would be a lot of added stress and potential for risk if we try to induce a vaginal birth.”

“I don’t know,” Tessa mumbles, her knuckles white as she grips Scott’s hand tight enough to cut off the circulation, “I can’t _think_.”

Her eyes scrunch closed again and Scott tucks her under his arm, bringing his other hand up to hold her head and rub her temple for her while she tries to breathe through the pain.  

“Take your time and talk it over. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He waits until the door is closed before breaking the silence, pressing a kiss to the top of Tessa’s head and speaking as quietly as possible.

“What do you want to do, Tess?”

“I don’t know,” She moans, pressing her face into his chest, and Scott can hear the barely contained sobs in her throat threatening to break free.

Swallowing thickly around his own painful emotions, he says, “I’m worried about what could happen if we wait.”

“Me too.”

“I hate how much pain you’re in.”

“ _Me too_ ,” She repeats herself with the tiniest chuckle, and Scott’s heart swells with equal parts affection and concern.

“So… you think we should-“

“Yes,” She nods, the top of her head bumping his chin, “I’ll do it. I’ll do the C-section.”

 

***

 

If you had asked Scott at any point during the last almost twenty years what the worst experience of his life had been, the answer would have been pretty obvious. Well, probably two answers tied closely together: one, losing Tessa the first time, and two, losing Tessa the second time. Simple, straightforward, no explanation necessary. Easy answers.

They pale in comparison to watching the excruciating cesarean birth of his third child.  

Tessa’s blood pressure had been too high for them to wait for the anesthesia to kick in properly before starting, and only the adrenaline had saved her from feeling every single centimeter being opened (if _saved_ is even a good word to use here), and then the brief moment of anticipation – the feeling that at least their child was about to be brought into the world – was interrupted by shouts of “cord around the neck, cord around the neck” that had made Scott’s blood run cold.

They got the baby out in just over two minutes, but it was easily the longest two minutes of Scott’s life, followed by the agony of watching their child being rushed away to the NICU before they even had the chance to properly hold her.

        

Scott’s pretty sure he didn’t breathe again until Tessa had been declared stable and recovered enough for them to wheel her into the NICU with him.

 

“She’s so small,” Tessa murmurs by his side, her face nearly pressed up against the side of the incubator as she stares at their daughter. Her hand is clasped tightly in his and if Scott has his way, that won’t change anytime soon.

Tessa had been too out of it to understand, but Dr. Lovett had told him privately how close they’d come to having a much more serious situation on their hands, and losing her to Montreal suddenly seems insignificant in the face of losing her forever.

Scott drags his eyes away from his wife to look at his daughter again. She is tiny. The smallest baby he’s ever seen in person – with the smallest little fingernails and the barest dusting of dark hair on top of her head and a light peach fuzzy-like covering on her skin (especially around the shoulders). The band around her ankle is hardly big enough to show her full name and birth information.

 

**Moir, Jodie Eliza**

Moir, Tessa, **Mother**

**DOB:** 2025-10-05

 

Tessa had tried to pretend her choices for their daughter's name weren’t heavily influenced by some of her favorite Audrey Hepburn characters (she’d also suggested Holly, Sabrina, Ann, and Nicole), and although she’d denied it when he'd asked, (“Her name is Jo in _Funny Face_ , Scott, not Jo _die_ ), Scott could see right through her. But despite the inevitable teasing, Scott didn’t really mind. He likes both names, and he kind of likes that her initials spell out JEM – because she’s already as precious as a gem to him.

(Yes, he knows how cheesy that is, and that Toph probably somehow impossibly heard that thought and now wants mac and cheese, but he still stands by the sentiment).

He can already picture her with Alisa and Toph – the three of them running around together, causing mischief, dark hair flying as two pairs of eyes that match his and one as green as Tessa’s (they haven’t changed yet of course, won’t for weeks, but he just _knows)_   sparkle with intelligence and energy and spirit.

He can’t wait to watch her personality bloom. Will she be precocious like Lis? Rambunctious like Toph? A skater? A dancer? A teacher? What kind of books and movies will she like? Will she favor him or Tess in appearance?

Alisa is already starting to become covered in freckles like her mother, and Scott wonders if Jodie will be the same. He hopes so.

“I hate that we can’t take her home,” He sighs, leaning in a little closer to the glass so that he can better see her torso as it rises and falls with each breath.

“Me too,” Tessa replies, a little sigh escaping her lips to match his.

The doctors told them she’s doing remarkably well, but he still hates seeing her like this. Hates that he can’t cradle her in his arms. And he knows it must be ten times harder for Tessa, who had been adamant about breastfeeding and the importance of skin-to-skin time with both of their other children.

_Tessa_.

And just like that Scott’s thoughts are on her again as he rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, watching her watch Jodie. He knows she’s exhausted, but in that moment he can’t see the bags under her eyes or the sag in her shoulders or that her stringy hair – already falling out of the messy bun she’d hastily thrown it up in - obviously needs a wash, all he can see is _Tessa_.

Glorious, magnificent, strong, incredible Tessa.

“Hey,” He whispers, reaching up to run his thumb along her jaw and raw her attention away from their new daughter for just a second, pressing the softest of kisses to her lips as soon as her eyes find his.

“What’s that for?” She asks, biting her bottom lip as the corner quirks up, preventing it from turning into a full-blown smile while she waits for an explanation.

“Do I need an excuse to kiss you? I seem to remember you promising once that I could kiss you anytime I want.”

Tessa’s eyes sparkle as she giggles at him, leaning in to kiss him again despite the disapproving glance from the NICU nurse in the corner checking up on one of the other babies.

“That was the deal when we got married,” Tessa agrees, “But still, what’s it for this time?”

“You’re just amazing, Tess,” Scott says quietly, his voice cracking a little bit with overwhelming gratitude, “Absolutely amazing.”

“I hardly did anything this time,” She protests quietly, hyper conscious of their surroundings and the other sleeping babies, “I basically just laid there.”

“Yes you did, T,” Scott argues gently, “Just because it was a different kind of birth doesn’t make it _less_.”

“I know. I just… hate feeling useless. Like I’m not in control of my body.”

“What? You do?” Scott leans back, pretending to be shocked, and Tessa rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m predictable, I know.”

Chuckling, Scott pulls her in close to his side, conscious of her stitches and careful not to move her too quickly or accidentally move her into an uncomfortable position, “Predictable? Hardly. Wonder Woman? Definitely. I love you so much right now.”

The declaration bursts out of him unexpectedly, and the NICU nurse _does_ genuinely glare at him then, holding her finger up to her mouth to shush him and making him blush - thoroughly chastised.  

“I love you, too,” Tessa says happily, kissing him on the cheek, and Scott tilts her chin up to kiss her again.

“Thank you. She’s perfect, you’re perfect-“

“So we’re perfect together!” Tessa cuts in, singing the words from _Wicked_ , and Scott laughs again – covering his mouth to keep from getting in trouble and getting kicked out of the room or something. Is there a jail for couples who misbehave in the NICU? 

“I think your meds are kicking in,” He jokes and Tessa nods giddily.

“I think so, too.”

“We should probably get you back to your room so you can sleep," He suggests as her head falls heavy onto his shoulder. He doesn't mind cuddling with her here, not at all, but she probably isn't very comfortable, "I don’t know if you noticed, but you had a baby today. That’s kind of a big deal.”

“You know, I think I may have noticed that," Her laughter joins his, and the nurses shushes them again from somewhere behind them ,"But five more minutes? I want to look at her a little longer.”

Her words are slurred and her eyelids droopy as she struggles to stay awake, but he isn't about to deny her any time with their new baby - no matter how tired she is. Whatever Tessa wants today and for the foreseeable future until they're all home and together and fully recovered, Tessa gets. 

“Yeah, T,” Scott smiles, kissing her hair and turning back to gaze at little Jodie, “We can stay here as long as you want.”

         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only had time to read through this once before posting, so I apologize for any glaring mistakes!


	13. August 2026

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy thirtieth anniversary!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe we've finally made it to the end. It's bittersweet for me, I'll admit, having to say goodbye to these characters. On the one hand, they've really grown to feel like a little family to me and I hate to say goodbye to them, but on the other hand - wow it's taken a while to get here! Oops! 
> 
> I want to thank all of you for sticking with me on this journey. Your endless encouragement and love for this story has kept me going and filled me with so much warmth. I truly appreciate it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this last chapter. It's a little bit soft, a little bit smutty, and hopefully full of thirty years of love. 
> 
> Thank you,
> 
> XOXO  
> Daisy

** take my hand and go with me **

****

**_August 25, 2026_ **

**_Virtue House, Ilderton, Ontario_ **

****

“It takes passion, dedication, and time to become your best.”

The sign, written in harsh, intimidating letters, still hangs proudly by the entryway in Tessa’s childhood home. Its dark font a stark contrast to the soft dove grey walls that coat the interior of the house, and Tessa sighs as she sets down the last of the luggage and reads the words for what must be the millionth time.

There’s always a strange sensation that takes over whenever she walks into her mother’s home – an odd mix of sentimental longing and relief. The scent of something freshly baked accompanying the wave of nostalgia like an old friend.

It’s so different from how it was when she was a child. What once used to be a spotless home, decorated with muted colors and cleaned to perfection, is now peppered with color and vivacity (and more than a few dents, courtesy of Toph).

There’s a collection of Disney DVDs on the chipped and scraped oak coffee table, Poppy, Alisa, and Toph’s various art projects taped to the fridge, and photos on every available surface. Pictures from Tessa’s weddings (both the first one and the vow renewal), various photos of Kevin and Casey and their families, a beautiful portrait of Jordan and Heather from their wedding the previous summer, snapshots of all the grandkids, and a loving picture of Kate and Tom scattered about here and there.

It finally feels like a genuine _home._ A home that Tessa’s about to leave her children in for an entire week.

"Is that the last of it?” Scott whispers as she walks into the family room. He’s rocking gently from side to side while Jodie’s eyelids start to close over her bright green eyes (just like her daddy had predicted). They’d had to wake her up early to bring her and her siblings to Kate’s house before school and she hadn’t been very pleased about it. Even now her chubby cheeks are tinted slightly red from her tears.

_She definitely gets her love of sleep from me_ , Tessa thinks with a rush of affection, brushing a strand of hair away from her youngest daughter's forehead with only the slightest amount of pressure so that she doesn’t wake her up.

“Yes, it’s all here now. I hope we didn’t forget anything.”

“With the way you pack, T, that’s not possible.”

Scott winks and Tessa smiles back at him, leaning up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek before seeking out her mother and other children in the kitchen.

        

She finds Kate pulling a tray of delectable looking cinnamon rolls out of the oven and Tom getting his ear talked off by Toph about hockey. Bless his heart, her step-father tries to follow along as best he can, but Toph talks fast when he's excited and it can be hard to keep up.

When her mother first came over for a visit and announced she’d met a widower in her Over-60 book club, Tessa had been apprehensive. Even though it had been years since her parent’s divorce, she still wasn’t sure how she would feel watching her mother with another man, but Tom turned out to be exactly what Kate needed. He was soft in all the ways she could be sharp, kind and gentle and understanding, and perfectly content to spend his retirement being the best husband, step-father, and step-grandfather that he could be. Tessa’s children all adored him, and it didn’t hurt that in his youth he’d been a Zamboni driver at the Scotiabank Arena and could regale them all with funny Leafs stories.

(He’d nearly had Scott considering a career change.)

(Tessa had promptly talked him out of it.)

Alisa sits at the table eating some apple slices and reading _Amelia Bedelia_. It’s Tessa’s old copy that she’d found among the large collection of books that Kate’s compiled over the years, and her current favorite. Her freckled face scrunching up with giggles each time something ridiculous, and Tessa’s heart equally swells with joy and grows heavier with guilt as she watches her daughter.

She, at least, is excited to spend the week with her grandmother, even if her little brother and sister are not. For Alisa it means playing lots of dress-up with Kate and eating lots of her favorite cookies, but for Toph and Jodie it means being away from their parents – a thought that makes Tessa’s heart ache.

Objectively she knows that she shouldn’t feel guilty (Scott’s been telling her that enough for the past month that you’d think it would have stuck by now) – plenty of parents take vacations from their children without negative repercussions. And they’ve been apart from their parents before, of course - Tessa when she has to make trips to Montreal or New York City for work, Scott when he goes away for business meetings in Toronto or Montreal (he’d opened up a shop there too, after much persuasion) - but never both at the same time.

“Mom, what does ‘literal’ mean?” Alisa asks suddenly, looking at the back cover of the book with a furrowed brow and brushing one of her braided pigtails off of her shoulder.

“It means taking words in their most basic sense, like how Amelia Bedelia always does _exactly_  what she’s told, without understanding that the instructions might mean something a little different.”

“Like when Mrs. Rogers tells her to draw the drapes and Amelia draws a picture instead of closing them?”

“That’s right, Lis!” Tessa nods encouragingly. Teaching her children and watching as they grasp new words or ideas is one of her favorite parts of being a mother. She's going to miss it horribly, even for just a few days. “She took what Mrs. Rogers said _literally_.”

“Oh, I get it,” Alisa nods and crunches on another piece of apple, wiping away the juices with her hand before turning the page with sticky fingers.

Tessa glances at her mother to see if she’d noticed the infraction, but if she has she doesn’t seem to care as she covers the rolls in glaze. Yet another sign of how things have changed in the past thirty years.

"Well, it’s official,” Scott announces as he walks into the kitchen, Jodie propped up on his hip and staring at them all with an entirely-too-wide-awake pair of eyes. “She won’t go back to sleep. Sorry, Kate.”

“That’s alright, I’ll just put her down for her nap a little earlier than usual,” Kate shrugs, serving up the rolls and placing them on the table – barely managing to set the plate down in front of Toph before he digs in, not afraid to get his fingers covered in glaze and cinnamon.

“Use a fork, Toph,” Tessa chastises gently, with no real intent behind it. She’s been finding it hard to discipline her children properly before her impending departure. It also probably doesn’t help that Scott’s laughing beside her at their son's actions.  

“I can’t!” Toph argues, snatching Alisa’s fork away before she can use hers, ignoring his sister’s protests, “It’s against the rules.”

“ _Toph_ -“ She begins, but is quickly cut off by her step-father.

“It’s fine, Tessa. Today is eat like Tarzan day,” Tom explains, digging into his own roll with his hands just like Toph, and Tessa smile as her son grins up at the older man and mimics the sound of a gorilla.

“Ooh,” Alisa chimes in, suddenly less put out by the prospect of eating without the proper silverware, “I like Tarzan.”

_Don’t I know it_ , Tessa rolls her eyes even as she smiles. The movie had been playing practically nonstop all summer. Toph likes it purely for the trashing the camp scene, but Alisa likes it for the Jane and Tarzan romance.

“Can you believe this? She’s six years old and already replaced me with another man,” Scott lets out an exaggerated sigh, slumping his shoulders like he’s received the ultimate rejection, and everyone laughs.

“I seem to remember Tessa finding a boy more important than anyone else around this age too,” Kate points out, and Scott blushes.

“That’s different. That boy was _me_.”

“And Tarzan is fictional,” Kate shoots back, “Much less of a threat.”

“I was hardly threatening!”

“Well,” Tessa pauses, tapping her chin with her index finger and eying him up and down, “I did break my arm when I met you. So _technically_ …”

She lets her voice trail off as Scott’s mouth drops open. The look he gives her is one of utter betrayal and faster than she can say _I’m just kidding_ he’s got his hand on her ribcage – mercilessly tickling her.

"You take that back, Tessa Jane! I was a kind, gentle boy who never did anything bad until you came into my life!”

“Ha!” Tessa and Kate cry out in unison, which only makes Scott tickle her harder – not letting up until she nearly jumps over the marble top of the kitchen island to get away from him.

“Please don’t destroy my kitchen before you leave,” Kate chuckles, pouring glasses of milk for everybody and trying to keep them far away from Tessa and Scott so that they aren’t knocked over.

“Sorry Mom.”

“Sorry Kate.”

"You two haven't changed at all. Sometimes it's hard to believe you can be responsible adults." Kate shakes her head and Scott laughs again, shrugging helplessly as if to say,  _I never said that's what I was_. 

“Speaking of which,” Tessa glances at her watch, “We should probably be going. You have the list I gave you?”

“Yes,” Kate sighs with no small amount of exasperation, an act Tessa finds a little ironic considering the tight ship her mother used to run when raising her own children, “I’ll get Alisa to school just fine, don’t worry. And I know when Jodie usually takes her naps. And I promise to practice reading with Toph. Now go on, you have a flight to catch.”

She reaches out to take Jodie from Scott, but he twists away so that she’s out of Kate’s reach and snuggles her a little closer – letting Jodie tuck her head under his chin and squeezing her tight.  

"Scott will you please let go of your daughter, we’re going to be late,” Tessa digs around in her purse, triple-checking that she has both their passports and all of their necessary credit cards and emergency information.

_It’s just a week and Paris is hardly a third-world country. We’re going to be fine_ , she tries to remind herself, but it does little to ease her anxiety.

“I can’t, T, unlike you and Lis, this one still thinks I’m the best.”

Tessa rolls her eyes and takes her from Scott’s arms – intending to hand her directly to Kate – but instead Jodie snuggles into her and holds on just as tight, instantly melting Tessa’s heart.

She’s their chunky little monkey, all rosy and pink and full of smiles and more love than it seems possible for her little heart to contain, and she adores both of her parents equally – which in turn has both of them wrapped around her tiny fingers.

“Now who won’t let go?” Scott snorts, earning a pinch on the arm from Tessa that he rubs away with a pout.

“Come on,” Kate reaches out and practically forces Tessa to let go of Jodie, and it’s all Tessa can do not to give into her daughter’s pleading look that couldn’t be more clear if she could actually talk. She’s nearing that whole “stranger-danger” phase and sometimes, like now, that even includes her grandparents. “She’s going to be _fine_ ,” Kate insists as if reading her mind, “Go.”

“We will, we will,” Tessa sighs.

She walks around the table to wrap her arms around Alisa, planting about fifty kisses on top of her head, despite her daughter’s peals of laughter as she tries to squirm away.

“ _Mom,_ ” Alisa complains with a giggle, swatting Tessa away with gooey fingers, “I’m trying to eat breakfast.”

She wants to keep kissing her, tell her about five million times that she loves her, but even though she’s nearly seven, Alisa just doesn’t have the attention span for that. So instead Tessa kisses her one more time for good measure and says, “Be good for Grandma and take care of your brother and sister.”

“I will,” Alisa nods solemnly, settling into Big Sister mode with practiced ease, and Tessa can’t help but peck her cheek with just one more kiss.

It’s Toph’s turn next, but most of his head is covered by a knitted cap that impedes her attempt to smother him with affection.

“Toph, don’t you want to take your hat off while you’re inside? It’s still summer, you must be warm,” Kate asks with a persuasive lilt in her voice, but Tessa knows the hat will stay where it is. Especially because the look of absolute stubbornness that comes across Toph’s face could frighten a grown man.

"No! My hat!” He tugs it on further so that it stretches down to his eyes, nearly covering them, and Tessa shrugs apologetically towards her mother as she reaches out and fixes it so that he isn’t blinded by the royal blue fabric.

"He’s decided to wear Scott’s old Leafs toque everywhere. He even sleeps in it. I have to sneak in and steal it off his head in the idle of the night once a week just so that I can wash it.”

“That’s my boy!” Scott grins, scooping Toph up in a giant bear hug and mercilessly tickling him – a round of deafening giggles bursting out of their son as he tries to get away.

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Kate states with mock solemnity, and Tessa laughs.

“No, no it doesn’t.”

 

***

 

They do make it out of the house eventually, getting a ride to the airport from Joe, and Tessa tries not to bring it up, but once they're sitting in their seats waiting for take-off she just can’t contain it anymore.    

“Do you think anyone actually buys stuff from these magazines?” Scott asks beside her, graciously sitting in the middle seat so that she isn’t forced to sit next to some strange man for the next ten hours.

“Are you sure we’re not being selfish?” Tessa asks at the same time, spinning her wedding band around her ring finger and glancing out the window. It looks like it might rain later and if there’s thunder Alisa and Toph will be scared (Jodie, oddly enough, seems to relish extreme weather). _Maybe I should call Mom and warn her_.

Scott snorts, “What do you mean? Because we aren’t planning on spending a ridiculous amount of money on this mounted fish in the airline magazine?”

"No,” Tessa rolls her eyes, “Leaving the children. Are we being good parents if we leave them behind?”

"We’re not leaving them behind, Tess,” Scott replies matter-of-factly, closing the magazine and sliding it back into the pocket of the seat in front of him, “We’re going away for our anniversary. It’s perfectly normal, and it’s not selfish. Their parents having a healthy marriage could only be a good thing.”

“We already do have a healthy marriage,” Tessa feels the need to point out. They may not have traveled as much as they once dreamed of, but she wouldn’t trade their life in Ilderton for the world. Even if she does greatly enjoy following The Bucket List Family on Instagram.

“Yes, we do, but I would like to be able to have sex with you that doesn’t include a backing track of baby sounds on a monitor.”

“Scott!” She cries out in protest, color flooding her cheeks, looking around them nervously to see if anyone overheard his comment, and Scott holds up his hands in self-defense. Thankfully people are still getting to their seats and trying to get their carry-ons into the overhead bins, so Tessa figures they’re safe for a few more minutes.

"It’s true. I'm going to miss them too, of course I am, but all I can think about is having a big bed all to ourselves. No feet in my face or kicking me in the ribs. Nobody waking us up in the middle of the night. We might actually get eight full hours of sleep, Tess!”

“I want that too, it just feels weird sneaking away for a sex vacation.”

“A sexcation,” Scott corrects her with a wink, “And it’s not just that. We deserve to take some time to celebrate with just us. The kids aren’t going to hold a grudge about it. They love your mom and Grandpa Tom, T, and it’s good for them to spend some time with them.”

“I know, I know,” She sighs, “It just feels weird. I feel like I’ve forgotten what to do with two free hands.”

“I know what you could do with your hands,” His voice trails off suggestively and Tessa swats his shoulder.

“You’re insufferable.”

“No, I’m _excited_. And I know, deep down, you are too.”

Tessa takes his hand and lets him kiss her, settling into her seat and resolving to take his advice and try to relax. 

 

* * *

 

**_August 26, 2026_ **

**_Paris, France_ **

****

“Are you kidding me?”

Tessa’s mouth drops open as their cab driver comes to a stop in front of a massive, ornate building. It’s exterior clearly dates it to the Belle Époque, one of her favorite architectural periods, with its off-white exterior, lavish decoration, and beautiful caryatids framing the balcony windows, and she practically has to pick her mouth up off the floor.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Scott asks, taking their luggage from the driver and tipping him a few euros, “Don’t you like it?”

“Like it? Scott, it’s amazing, but it’s too much! This is the Shangri-La hotel. This is where, I don’t know, celebrities or wealthy people stay. I was expecting a nice AirBNB not a veritable palace.”

Tessa turns back to face the white double-doors underneath the wrought iron awning and takes in a deep breath, trying not to hyperventilate. She’s seen and heard of this hotel before, of course, during her few trips to Paris over the years with Marie-France, but she never once thought she’d actually be one of the guests. Never would have expected Scott to think of it, let alone choose it over something more... comfortable.

She feels like the first time she’d walked in on him drinking a glass of red wine and listening to jazz while he cooked dinner - discombobulated and a little aroused.

“It’s our anniversary. I thought we could afford to splurge a little,” Scott shrugs and drops his arm over her shoulders, tucking her into his side, “I even bought the guide book in advance so that you could read up all about it.”

She snatches it out of his hand with a level of enthusiasm that makes him laugh, and she’s only briefly distracted by the rather intense kiss he gives her in response – too excited to peruse the pamphlet and learn every detail that she can about the building that will be their oasis for the next few days.  

“ _Two_ Michelin star rated restaurants?” She bursts out while he drags their luggage into the lobby and heads for the check-in desk – her mouth already salivating at the menu.

Bresse chicken from Alexandre Mazuir with Albufera sauce, black truffle, a glass of white wine, and one of the fancy desserts sounds like the most heavenly dinner she’s had in a long while. It’s almost enough to have her running straight to the restaurant, even though it’s barely after noon.

Thank god she brought a few nice dresses.

(Although she’s definitely going shopping while in town – that’s a given.)

“Only the best for my wife,” Scott grins back at her over his shoulder, his face quickly turning from innocent joy to sinful promise, “We’ve got to keep your energy up.”

Tessa blushes at the look the concierge gives them both, but chooses to ignore his comment for the moment in an attempt to avoid making their plans even more blatantly obvious to the employees.  

After all, he’s not wrong. As excited as she is for dinner, she’s even more excited for what comes after (and hopefully before, if she can resist giving into her body’s desire for a jet-lag recovery nap).

They follow the porter to the elevators, past a grand ornate staircase, and the tiny heels on her flats click across the marble floor as they walk, somehow making Tessa feel even more cosmopolitan. If she scrunches her eyes shut tight, she can almost imagine Audrey Hepburn or Coco Chanel walking around the corner and greeting them.

(This fantasy doesn’t last long though, as she nearly runs face first into a column and is almost forced to kill Scott for laughing at her – a poor way to start their vacation.)

As they make their way upstairs, Scott strikes up a conversation with the young man, apparently named Pierre, who immediately launches into a thickly accented factual lesson about the hotel.

“This is the former palace of Napoleon Bonaparte’s grandnephew, Prince Roland Bonaparte. The building hugs the Seine in a quiet, tasteful corner of Paris. The property, named Palais Iéna, rests in the Eiffel Tower's elegant shadow, enjoying the city’s finest views of this iconic monument-“

Scott, to his credit, pretends to act interested. His tried and true skills for making small talk shining, despite the slight language barrier, but Tessa lets her mind wander as they make their way down another opulent hallway towards their suite.

She’d been so nervous about leaving their kids behind in Ontario, it had never occurred to her how much she and Scott needed this. Needed some time just for themselves, where they could be just Tessa and Scott, instead of Mom and Dad. And as the porter opens the door of their suite and gestures for them to enter, she resolves to put aside any thoughts of home for the next five days and simply allow herself to bask in the luxury of some alone time with her husband in her favorite city in the world.

The room is large and decorated in shades of blue, white, and cream, with French-style furniture and decorations, large, airy windows, and an amazing view of the Eiffel Tower.

In short, it’s perfect.

“This is amazing, Scott, really,” Tessa calls out as she unzips their suitcases and gets to work unpacking everything. She’s never been the type to live out of her suitcase when a closet and dresser are available, especially when a few of her nicer pieces threaten to wrinkle beyond repair if left folded any longer.  

“It’s certainly something. The pictures don’t do it justice.”

He’d disappeared to check out the bathroom – an insanely sized space with double-windows that opened out over the Parisian skyline – and Tessa can hear him whistling in amazement at the grandeur.

His laughter is the first thing that notifies her of his presence when he reemerges just as she’s finishing hanging up his dress shirts in the closet – his arms wrapping around her from behind as he brushes her hair out of the way and peppers kisses up and down the side of her neck.

“You’re so efficient. I thought you’d already be curled up in bed. You didn’t get any sleep on the plane.”

“I never sleep very well on planes,” Tessa explains, turning around in his arms to face him with a teasing glare, “ _You,_ on the other hand, slept like a baby.”

“Mmm,” Scott hums happily, swaying a little and settling his hands possessively over her ass, “I did. I think I got nearly six straight hours. That’s twice as much as I get at home. I feel like running a marathon.”

“Is that _really_ what you want to do right now?” She asks with a coy smile, glancing at the grey armchair in the corner and formulating a few ideas. It’s perfectly positioned by one of the big windows with the Eiffel Tower framed in the background, and the tableau it presents has her growing a little wet.

Paris is the city of lights. The city of love. The city of fashion. It’s also the city that inadvertently lead her back to Scott. And the idea of having sex with him here is even more enticing than she’d expected.

(She kind of likes Paris a lot, so sue her.)

“Why, Mrs. Moir, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to proposition me.”

“Too bad you know better then,” She winks and backs away, pulling her plain t-shirt off and revealing the lacy maroon bra she has on underneath. It’s more of a fancy bralette than anything (she’d been on a trans-Atlantic flight, there was no way she was wearing something intense and _wired),_ but it does the trick when Scott’s eyes grow darker and he stalks after her.

“The bed is the other direction,” He points out just before kissing her within an ounce of her life, his lips soft and warm and familiar and still somehow making her skin buzz after all these years.

“I wasn’t heading towards the bed,” Tessa shoots back as soon as he releases her, their chests pressed together and heaving with the shared effort of catching their breaths and her fingers already working at the button of his pants – sliding the zipper down and pushing both his jeans and boxer-briefs off in one fell swoop.

“You weren’t? But-”

She doesn’t give him a chance to finish before spinning him around and pushing him down into the chair, his little _harrumph_ making her giggle while she gets down on her knees in front of him and starts running her hands up and down his thighs.

“Tess?” His voice squeaks when she gets closer to his rapidly hardening cock, and she grins.

“You should probably take your shirt off.”

He quickly complies and she smirks before leaning forward to lick the underside of his shaft, running her tongue lightly up and down before taking him in her mouth, and Scott practically chokes on his own spit in an effort not to cry out.

“Don’t be quiet,” She chastises, pulling away to place wet kisses along his abdomen, “I want to hear you.”

“But the window’s open,” He protests, gesturing wildly in the direction of the balcony – birds twittering happily in the trees and the sounds of steady traffic down below.

She arches one perfect eyebrow at him and nips at the skin just underneath his bellybutton, earning a muffled groan. _Close, but not exactly_.

“So?”

_"So_ let me shut it first.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” She shakes her head and wraps her lips around him again, pumping the base of his shaft with her hand as she does some of her best work on his head – trying every trick she knows to get him to moan uncontrollably like she loves. Like they hardly ever get to do when they’re at home.

“Tes-sa,” He stutters, thrusting helplessly into her mouth and releasing a guttural sound that’s nearly what she’s looking for.

“We always have to be quiet, but nobody knows us here. I want you to be loud, Scott. I want to know how good I make you feel. How much you like it.”

She takes him back in her mouth and his head thunks against the back of the chair, one hand tangling in her hair and helping guide her movements.

“I-guh-I always like it.”

“I know,” Her words are muffled by his cock and she grins lasciviously at him when he groans loudly in response. He’s always had a private thing for that – her gagging a little around him – and if she’s being honest, she likes it, too.

"I _really_ like the hotel,” She continues talking around him, using her tongue to add extra pressure as she sucks him off, “And I really, really, like you.”

She punctuates each word with another suck and a twist of her wrist, and Scott comes with a guttural cry – unimpeded by worries of waking up children or having to answer awkward questions in the morning (thanks, Lis, for _that_ conversation) – and Tessa relishes every single second of it, working him through his orgasm, her eyes trained on him as he basks in the unfettered pleasure of it.

“Tess,” Scott finally manages to gasp once she’s let him go and leaned back a little to give him space to regain some semblance of higher brainpower. He’s breathless and boneless where he’d fallen backwards into the chair in a depleted heap, but grinning at her like he’s seventeen again and she’d just blown him for the first time, “I think I’m going to love France.”

Her laughter rings out through the open windows, wild and free, and she hopes someone hears it. Hopes that people know just how much she adores the man in front of her.

Climbing to her feet, she shakes her legs a little to help disperse the pins and needles in them from kneeling so long before picking up his shirt and pants and tossing him into his suitcase. Leaving a mess of laundry on the floor in this beautiful room seems like a sin, somehow, and she can hear Scott snort lightly behind her – clearly watching with amusement.

“I’m just being polite,” She replies to his unspoken thoughts, and Scott chuckles.

“Of course you are. Wouldn’t want the maids to know what had happened in here.”

“Oh, no, I think they’ll know. They definitely heard you,” She shoots back, trying to retain the power, but Scott’s fully cognizant again and his face shows no signs of giving her control anymore.

She knows that face well. It’s the one that means she’s about to be completely at his mercy, and with the way his eyebrows have pulled slightly together while he smiles, it probably means _again and again and again_.

“Now, Scott,” She warns, backing up slowly and retreating from his advances, “Be nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

“Yes, but sometimes you’re _too_ nice and then I can’t walk for hours afterwards, and we have dinner reservations tonight, remember?”

“You’ll make it to dinner,” Comes his casually confident reply, his advance not stopping until her legs hit the edge of the bed.

“On time?” She asks pointedly, and Scott pushes her backwards onto the bed until she lands with a with a huff on her back.

“Probably,” He nods, flicking her pants open with practiced ease and pulling them down her legs – tossing them pointedly over his shoulder in a heap, half hanging out of the open window.

“Scott,” She whines, propping herself up on her elbows and trying to glare at him, even though his hands are doing wonderfully distracting things to her legs – running up and down the soft insides of her thighs and making her tingle all over. “What if those had been thrown all the way out onto the sidewalk?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” He pauses, pondering for a moment, “Maybe that’s what I’ll do with your underwear. Just really reinforce the rumors about what’s going on up here.”

He snaps the band of her matching maroon underwear against her hip and Tessa shoves his hip with her toes, “Not if you want to have sex, you won’t. I don’t want to get kicked out of the hotel on our first day here.”

“But getting kicked out for sex _is_ a possibility on a later date?” Scott clarifies with a grin, swooping in to kiss her before she can form a retort.

Tessa lets it go, choosing instead to focus on the delightful things he can do with his tongue (and feeling the anticipation grow for what _else_ he can, and hopefully will, do with it), and Scott uses the opportunity to reposition her more comfortably on the bed so that her head is cushioned by an overabundance of pillows.

He starts working his way down her body, encouraging her to lift up so that he can unclasp her bra and toss it aside – taking care to make sure it _doesn’t_ go near the window this time, and instead ends up hanging off the ornate mirror on the wall (he grins proudly at that). His mouth is warm and wet against her nipples and breasts as he nips and sucks back and forth between them, never giving her quite enough to satisfy – keeping her on the edge and driving her mindless with the need for _more_.

“You’re so gorgeous, Tess,” He murmurs against the underside of her breast, working a hickey into the skin there and making her shudder. The fingers of his one hand are working the opposite breast, while the others trail down her side and around towards their ultimate destination, nearly reaching it before pulling away. “I love your body.”

“You still think I’m beautiful?” Tessa gasps, arching her chest into his mouth and widening her legs in encouragement, “I don’t have the abs I once did – I’ve gone all soft around the middle.”

“Tess, babe, if this is your definition of soft we’ve gotta talk.” Scott chuckles, tickling her ribs for good measure and making her squirm underneath him.

“I know it’s not bad,” She sighs, running her fingers through his dark hair while he peppers kisses across her abdomen, pausing to kiss her elephant tattoos before moving his mouth over to tenderly run his lips back and forth across her still-fading C-section scar. “It’s just not what it once was.”

“It’s perfect, just like the rest of you is perfect. I’ve always thought you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, and that hasn’t changed one bit. If anything, I’m more convinced of that today than I was ten or twenty or thirty years ago.”

He looks up at her so earnestly that Tessa can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes. _What did I ever do to deserve him?_

“You’re gorgeous too, you know?” She says quietly, tracing the outside of his ears and smiling when he makes a little purring sound. “The handsomest man in the world. And I would know. I’ve met celebrities,” She winks and Scott laughs, propping himself up on his elbows and surging up to kiss her.

“I think when we get home we should get your vision checked,” He jokes with a little self-deprecating laugh, and Tessa frowns.

“It’s _true_! I love every part of you. Your fluffy hair – the perfect length to hold onto. Your expressive, beautiful hazel eyes. I’m so glad Alisa and Toph got those, too. Your strong profile-“

“You mean big nose,” Scott cuts in, bumping said nose against her neck before licking her there and making her laugh.

“That too,” Tessa agrees happily, scraping her nails down his back and grinning when he shudders.

“I love your strength. How you carry around all three of our children like it’s nothing. How you hold them up when they’re skating or learning to ride a bike or trying to walk.”

“Speaking of, I took the cutest video of Alisa trying to teach Toph how to ride her bike a couple of days ago. He is now even more convinced that skating is the only sport for him.”

Tessa tries not to roll her eyes at the blatant pride in Scott’s voice and the way his chest puffs out slightly against hers. He’s so damn excited to have a hockey kid that it would almost be annoying if it wasn’t so adorable watching father and son bond over it.

“Scott I am _trying_ to make a point here.”

“I know, and I appreciate it, but I also really want to have sex with you now,” He punctuates the statement with a quick bite of her collarbone, and Tessa moans unexpectedly, “We can get back to how I’m smokin’ hot later. Actually,” He smirks wickedly and Tessa gulps, “I have an idea.”

“Uh oh,” Tessa whispers, then clamps her lips shut between her teeth and prays he didn’t hear her.

“What do you mean _uh oh_?” He leans back, affronted, and Tessa shrugs - helplessly pinned beneath him and unable to escape his question.

“It’s just… Last time you said that in bed I ended up with ice on my clit.”

“ _With_ my tongue,” Scott points out loudly, “You can’t just finish it there otherwise it sounds like you were injured or something. The hot and cold together while I ate you out felt fucking amazing, be honest.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“No, I think that very much _is_ the point. You love playing with sensations, admit it.”

“Maybe I do, but-“

“No buts. Well, except this one," He playfully slaps her ass and Tessa swats at his in retaliation, "That’s one point for Scott and zero for Tess. Indulge me, here.”

Tessa watches with no small amount of apprehension as he climbs out of bed and retrieves the bottle of champagne cooling in the bucket of ice by the door. Somehow she’d missed it when they’d walked into the room – too many other things on her mind – but now it’s at the front and center of her thoughts as Scott gets back in bed with it.

“We’re going to drink champagne in bed?”

“No, _I’m_ going to drink it,” Scott explains, popping the cork with a holler and laughing when it spills out over her breasts – making her cry out in shock at the sudden cold.

 “ _Scott!”_  She begins to complain, intending to severely reprimand him, but her words are cut off by a moan when his lips close over her wet nipple and his tongue darts out to lick away the champagne there.

Her hand winds its way into his hair as he makes his way to her other breast and cleans that one off as well, her eyes falling closed in pleasure, and she can feel Scott smiling against her.

“Still think this is a bad idea?”

“Not so far,” She replies, whimpering a little when he pulls away.

The throbbing between her legs is getting to the point that she’s nearly tempted to touch herself, just to provide some modicum of relief while he plays his game. But she knows he’d never let her get close enough to do that. He’s pushed her hands away plenty of times in the past for her to know that’s not allowed when he’s got _plans._

“You need more faith in me and my ideas.”

He pours more champagne out over her stomach this time, making sure some of it pools in her bellybutton before latching onto her piercing and sucking. _Hard_. Hard enough that her hips arch up off the bed and her hands tug violently at the sheets.

He knows her weaknesses just as well as she knows his.

It really shouldn’t be hot, him licking alcohol off her body, but somehow it absolutely _is_ , and her heart is beating right out of her chest as she waits for him to move even lower – his tongue dragging slowly down from her bellybutton and making her shudder and bite down hard on her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

_"Please_ ,” She pants, spreading her legs as wide as they’ll go in open invitation, and Scott rewards her with a long lick up her center, but deftly avoids her clit – making her moan with both pleasure and frustration in equal measure.

“Who’s in charge here?”

“Me,” Tessa shoots back stubbornly, shoving his head between his legs and trying to force him to give her what she wants, but Scott laughs and sucks a mark into the inside of her thigh instead while sliding a single finger inside her. _Not enough_.  

“Try again.”

He sucks on her clit this time, a sharp tug that has her gasping and gushing around him, and Tessa moans loudly – almost missing the nod of approval he gives her.

_Oh_ , she realizes _, he wants me to be loud, too._

Two can play at that game though. She knows the fastest way to get him to give in.  

“Scott,” She whimpers, tracing his ears and the sides of his face and forcing him to look up at her, pulling away from his efforts to create a matching mark on her other thigh so that they’re making eye contact, “I love you.”

He groans and throws her legs over his shoulders, briefly sucking on her clit again before glaring at her, “That’s cheating.”

“All’s fair in love and orgasms,” Tessa sasses back, and Scott reaches up with both hands to tug sharply at her nipples in retaliation, earning the loud cry he’d wanted as her head falls back onto the pillows.

“Is that so? Well then.”

He smirks and Tessa tries to fix her mistake, but it’s too late. He devours her then, bringing her to the brink again and again and again, but never letting her fall. Keeping her on the edge of orgasm until she’s writhing and mindless with pleasure and the need for release - her hands tugging at his hair by the roots. She's surprised he hasn't found something to tie her up with, but then, she knows he likes to feel her like this, too. Likes feeling it when she loses control. 

“Stop teasing me! Please!” She finally manages to shout, begging him with her words and body for what she so desperately needs.

“No way,” Scott shakes his head, “We’re alone, T, as you so kindly pointed to to me earlier, which means for the first time in _way_ too long we can go slow.”

“Not _this_ slow!”

“I’m thinking,” He taps his chin thoughtfully with the index finger that was inside her only a second ago, his lips and skin glistening with her juices, and Tessa nearly whimpers at the sight, “One orgasm for every year?”

“ _Thirty_!?” She shouts, trying to sit up and huffing when Scott laughs and pushes her back down. The sound warping into a strangled gasp when he licks another long stripe up her sensitive center before sucking lightly on her clit – making the muscles in her thighs twitch. “I can’t do that in one night. There’s no way. That would probably _literally_ kill me.”

“Okay,” He concedes, “Maybe you have a point, but we’re here for five whole days. I think we can manage six a day, starting with this one.”

He dives back in, a merciless onslaught on her body, and when he has three fingers inside her he lets his pinky slide down and apply just the slightest amount of pressure to her ass as he sucks hard on her clit – finally, _finally_ , letting her come.

Her orgasm rockets through her, heat flooding her limbs as she comes with a rush around him – her legs clamping around his head as she arches off of the mattress – and she could almost swear she could hear Scott chuckling with satisfaction, if it weren’t for the white noise currently filling her brain.  

“Not bad, eh?” He grins once he’s moved back up her body and is laying by her side, and Tessa summons up just enough energy to roll towards him and give him a sloppy kiss – uncaring about the mess on his face or now in her hair thanks to the way he tangles his fingers in her dark strands while they make out.

“A five star orgasm for a five star hotel,” Tessa says breathlessly, her heart still beating like a racehorse.

It’s not her strongest joke by far, but Scott laughs anyway and kisses the tip of her nose.

He runs his fingers up and down her body while she slowly comes down from her high, tracing unknown shapes into her skin and giving her goosebumps. It’s almost _too_ much for her oversensitive body to handle right now, but it feels nice, too, so she lets him do it. Her eyelids beginning to droop as she basks in his attention, happy and sated.

“Could you imagine thirty years ago we’d end up here?” He asks suddenly, bringing her thoughts back from the edge of sleep and forcing her to refocus on him instead of the nap she longs for.

“Well, considering I was _seven_ , that’s a definite no,” She laughs, rolling on her side to face him and stroking his half-hard cock to emphasize her point.  

“Okay, maybe not _here_ exactly,” Scott concedes with a groan, thrusting into her hand with a little more force as they both laugh. “I just meant in general. Married, three kids, etcetera.”

“You mean when you took my hand and invited me to play Red Rover, did I have any idea you’d end up holding it forever?” She chuckles and releases him, finding his hand instead and lacing their fingers together so that she can bring it up to her mouth and gently kiss the back of it, “No, I didn’t.”  

“I did. Maybe not to this extent, but when I brought you those cookies and you smiled at me with that pretty face and sparkling, gorgeous green eyes, I think part of me knew there would never be anyone else.”

“I think for me it was when we broke into the rink when I was ten and you asked me to marry you. We were kids, but somehow it felt…  serious.”

"I’m so glad you said yes,” Scott rolls her onto her back and settles above her, slotting in between her legs with practiced ease, “When we were kids, when we were teenagers, and when we were adults. I love you, Tess, happy anniversary.”

“I love you, too,” Tessa responds with a giddy grin, any traces of sleep long gone as she brings her knees up to create a better angle and helps him put on the condom that he’d dug out of his bag at some point.

They both moan in unison as he pushes inside her, and Tessa wraps her arms and legs around him with every intention of never letting go.

“Can I kiss you now?” Scott pants, his lips dragging feather-light along her jaw as he begins to move, and Tessa smiles.

“Anytime you want.”

 

***

 

They manage to make it to their dinner reservation, but only just. Their hair and skin still damp from their hasty shower and bodies coated with an obvious glow that the entire staff understands, if their knowing smirks are anything to go by.

So much for being embarrassed by Scott's innuendo earlier. They might as well be wearing signs. 

“And are you celebrating anything special this evening?” The hostess asks with a friendly smile, glancing back and forth between them and clearly noticing the way they can hardly take their eyes off each other. "A honeymoon, perhaps?" 

“Actually, it’s our thirtieth anniversary,” Scott replies with a nod, his hand tightening a little around Tessa’s, and she presses the barest hint of a kiss on his shoulder – careful not to get any of her lipstick on the sleeve of his suit jacket.

"But how? You don’t look nearly old enough!” The woman says, her mouth dropping open in shock. Her eyes bounce back and forth between them, and Tessa can see her trying to work out if she’d somehow misjudged their ages.

Scott laughs and turns to smile warmly at Tessa, his eyes twinkling with love and blatant adoration. The same look she’s sure is reflected in her own eyes.

“It’s kind of a long story.”

 


End file.
